


you can stay here tonight

by andnowforyaya



Category: Monsta X (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Coming Out, Depression, Gen, Implied Relationships, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, M/M, Mental Health Issues, Past Relationship(s), Tutoring, Underage Drinking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-13
Updated: 2017-06-05
Packaged: 2018-09-24 04:45:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 25
Words: 35,787
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9702797
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/andnowforyaya/pseuds/andnowforyaya
Summary: Kihyun returns to school on a Wednesday towards the end of January, one and a half months after the night of the Winter Formal, which is the last time anyone saw him. Changkyun sits behind him in Calculus.





	1. Chapter 1

Kihyun returns to school on a Wednesday towards the end of January, one and a half months after the night of the Winter Formal, which is the last time anyone saw him: dressed in a pressed pink shirt and a little bowtie at his neck, hair styled back from his face, his lips tinted a lush rose. There are pictures from that night on Facebook, Kihyun’s face lit up from the stage lights, flushed from dancing. He returns to school with little fanfare, that night forgotten, slipping back into his classes like a fish back into water. Changkyun blinks and there Kihyun is, sitting in front of him in the seat that’s been empty for a month, the hood of his sweater pulled over his head as he ducks over his notebook, pen pressed to paper.

They hadn’t been particularly close. They ran in different circles. Or, more to the point, Changkyun didn’t -- doesn’t -- have a circle. Being a new student halfway through the first semester and taking a couple of advanced senior classes while he’s still a sophomore hasn’t made it easy to make friends. So, Changkyun doesn’t have a circle; he has Jooheon.

Changkyun sits in the desk behind Kihyun and lets his bag fall to the ground, leaning it against the legs of his chair. The teacher, Ms. Yoon, at the front of the room is writing something complicated and full of symbols on the whiteboard. She turns, scans the room as students file in, and says, “Kihyun, I’m going to need you to put your hood down.”

Kihyun does so without a fight. His hair is black, a little long over his ears. His shoulders curl in as the room quiets and he puts his head down onto his desk. There is a collective murmuring that takes over the class as each student begins to realize Kihyun is back. Kihyun, who stars in the Fall and Spring musicals every year ever since he became a freshman. Kihyun, who takes photos for the school yearbook. Kihyun, who volunteers as a student ambassador for new kids, taking them on tours and being their buddy for lunch and walking them to their classes. 

Kihyun cradles his head in one arm and begins to doodle with his pen in his other hand, ignoring the stares and the mumbling. His hoodie looks huge on his body, the sleeves reaching over his wrists and to his knuckles. Changkyun can tell he wishes he hadn’t pulled down his hood, that he wants to disappear. Changkyun’s felt that way before, too. 

Class begins. The excitement from the start dies down quickly as the monotony of Calculus takes over. It is the second semester of most of the class' senior year, and most of the students are content with coasting through the remainder of the semester as best they can until they graduate. Changkyun watches Kihyun doodle. The other boy doesn’t take note of anything their teacher writes on the board, choosing instead to fill the lines of his notebook with thick lines of ink. 

When class ends, Ms. Yoon walks down the row of chairs to Kihyun and asks him to stay back, to talk to him. She doesn’t comment on the doodles, though her eyes flick to it and back to Kihyun. Changkyun tries not to eavesdrop as he packs up. He catches the words “falling behind” as he leaves.

.

“Yo,” Jooheon says without preamble, slamming his lunch tray down onto the table. The plate of chicken tenders and fries jumps but amazingly no food is lost. “Did you hear Kihyun’s back?”

“Everyone’s heard that Kihyun’s back,” Changkyun says, rolling his eyes. The cafeteria of the school is in the basement of the building and always smells and feels slightly damp. Conversations echo off the walls from the students sitting at the large round tables. There's paint peeling in the corners near the ceiling. The cafeteria staff have opened the windows halfway up the walls in an attempt to get some air flow in the stuffy room, and a breeze ruffles Changkyun’s hair every once in a while. Jooheon is joined by Hyungwon, a student who part-times as a model and has some understanding with administration that allows him to miss huge chunks of school for extended periods of time. Changkyun thinks it’s because his father is on the school board. Plus, he’s really handsome. Really attractive people tend to have things handed to them on a silver platter.

“Yeah,” Jooheon continues, already starting to eat his fries before even sitting down. “But you actually have a class with him, right? Smarty-pants?”

Hyungwon laughs and Changkyun blushes. Hyungwon seems nice but they haven’t really connected over everything, and most of the time when he’s around Changkyun feels like a third wheel. The part-time model says, “You had class with him?”

Changkyun nods, picking at his food. The greasy fries and chicken tenders don’t go down well. “He’s really back,” Changkyun replies.

Hyungwon hums and tilts his head, thinking. “I’ll have to ask Hoseok what he knows.”

“Probably nothing,” Jooheon says. “He told me Kihyun just sort of -- dropped off the face of the planet for a while. They haven’t talked in weeks. He has no idea what happened. How’d he look?”

With a start, Changkyun realizes Jooheon had addressed the question to him. He stuffs chicken into his mouth, chewing slowly, as Jooheon and Hyungwon stare at him expectantly. Swallowing is difficult, and the chicken is dry. “What?”

“How’d he look?” Jooheon repeats. “You saw him, right?”

“Yeah,” Changkyun begins, a feeling of unease spreading over him. He remembers how Kihyun looked, small in his hoodie, a little black cloud over his head, his hand smeared in ink. “What do you want me to say? You want me to tell you what he was wearing?”

“No, just--” Jooheon groans, exasperated. “Never mind.”

Hyungwon, picking at Jooheon’s fries and leaving his own salad untouched on his tray, asks, “Did he look okay?” His eyes are piercing when they look directly into Changkyun’s.

Changkyun wonders if the boys even realize they’re sharing their food. He kicks his feet under the table. “He looked…” Changkyun says, biting at his lip. “...like he wanted to disappear.”

Hyungwon frowns and looks down at his tray, and Jooheon chews his food slowly. Changkyun clears his throat. How presumptuous of him. He doesn’t know Kihyun at all, what he likes or dislikes, what he cares about and doesn’t care about. Jooheon and Hyungwon both know Kihyun peripherally through other friends, through shared experiences, through years of co-existing in the same four-story building that is their high school. 

“But oh yeah,” Changkyun starts, “did you guys end up seeing that movie this weekend?”

The change in subject is obvious, but Jooheon lights up at the question, and Changkyun isn’t sure if it’s because he really wants to talk about the movie or if he really doesn’t want to talk about Kihyun anymore. Either way, Jooheon nods and launches into a summary of the plot, animating the story’s action sequences with his hands and dragging Hyungwon in to reenact a few choice scenes. 

“Sounds fun,” Changkyun says, grinning at his friends.

“Oh, it was,” Jooheon brags. “You missed out. We went shopping after. I can’t believe you’d rather do  _ more  _ school on the weekends than hang out with your best buds.”

“You’re my only buds,” Changkyun points out.

Jooheon thumps his chest with his fist. “Thus, best.”

Changkyun laughs, flicking a leftover fry into Jooheon’s shoulder. He can’t help but wonder what Kihyun did this weekend, where he’s been all this time, why he didn’t come to school. But he shoves those thoughts into the back of his mind. 

They don’t really concern him, anyway.

.


	2. Chapter 2

“I'm home,” Changkyun calls out as he closes the door to his family's apartment behind him. The apartment doesn't respond. Changkyun sighs, knowing it had been too much to hope for his mother to be home with a nice, mid-afternoon snack prepared for him. Whatever. He'd make one himself. Besides, if his mother were home he'd have to dodge her questions about why he isn't hanging out with any friends after school.

He can hear her high-pitched voice perfectly in his ear, usually over dinner -- “It’s been months, Changkyun,” she’d say, a plaintive tone to her comment. “Did you meet anyone new? Have you made any friends? Why don't you ever invite Jooheon over for dinner? Doesn't he ever invite you to hang out with him?”

Jooheon does, and sometimes Changkyun even enjoys hanging out with his friend outside of school, but more and more now it feels like he isn't really welcome, or like Jooheon is just inviting him for the sake of inviting him, or like Jooheon doesn't really know or care about Changkyun at all. It makes Changkyun’s skin crawl, when he feels like that, because he knows it’s just his brain going into overdrive, and he knows it's not Jooheon's fault. It's not Jooheon's fault Changkyun can't get it together, that he feels like an impostor in his own body.

He steps out of his shoes, putting them neatly into place on the shoe rack by the door, and heads into the kitchen.

It's obvious to Changkyun his family chose this apartment for the kitchen, because everything else in the apartment is just sort of -- plain. All the appliances are so new Changkyun can see his face in the glass of the oven door, in the stove tops. The cabinets and walls are white, the backsplash tiles like sea foam, and everything else in shades of blue and grey. It reminds Changkyun of winter in New England in the States. He wonders if that's why his mom loves it, if it reminds her of Cambridge.

He finds packages of ramyun in one of the cabinets and his stomach rumbles in interest, so he takes one out and puts a pot of water on the stove to boil. In the fridge, he finds eggs and a small container of old kimchi. He takes these out, too, deciding that a full meal in lieu of a snack is just as well. He’s a growing boy, after all.

.

His mother comes home when Changkyun is halfway through his homework, the bowl at his elbow containing nothing more than a few sad, curly noodles and some soup. She walks by as she puts her purse and a few plastic bags full of groceries on the kitchen counter, ruffling his hair with her hand and tsking. “You’ll spoil your dinner,” she says.

“I’ll be hungry,” Changkyun says by way of greeting. “Don’t worry.” He smiles up at her; she smiles down at him, wrinkles in the corners of her eyes. She’s beautiful. Changkyun thinks so, anyway. She radiates a sort of warmth and kindness that he doesn’t get from all mothers, but then maybe he’s biased because she’s his. Her black hair is pulled back into a sensible ponytail, her makeup light and tasteful, her shirt pressed and skirt perfectly situated around her waist. Changkyun got his mother’s brain for numbers, and all the social awkwardness of his father. She consults and was able to find work quickly when they relocated in the middle of the year so that his father could accept a teaching position at Seoul National.

“Everything go well at school today?” she asks.

“Perfectly perfect,” Changkyun says. “Can I help cook anything?”

“Just throwing everything into a big pot, Changkyun,” his mother explains, laughing. “But thank you.” She ruffles his hair again. “How did I raise such a clever boy? I must be an amazing parent, huh?”

“You did something right,” Changkyun acknowledges, suddenly remembering Kihyun, and the hunch of his shoulders, his hair falling across his forehead. He wonders about Kihyun’s parents, what they’d done during the month and a half that Kihyun missed school. Had they worried? Had Kihyun been with them?

Changkyun regards his mother as she leaves the kitchen to change into something more comfortable, imagining how she’d react if something happened to him. She’d never pull him from school, not unless he was very, very sick, or something similar.

He rolls his shoulders and looks back down at what he’d been working on. Calculus. The numbers and letters and symbols swim in his vision until they rearrange themselves into formulas and equations, steps to take to find the value of this variable and that. He finishes up his homework easily, his mother returning and starting to work on dinner.

True to her word, there is some chopping of vegetables involved but mostly she dumps all of the ingredients into a pot on the stove and brings it to boil, making an easy stew to go with rice.

“So,” she asks while she’s stirring the stew with a long wooden spoon and Changkyun is putting away his calculus text. “Did you make any new friends?”

Changkyun sighs. “No, mom. And before you ask, Jooheon had soccer practice after school, so I thought it might be better not to go with him and watch the team practice. Like a stalker.”

His mother says without missing a beat, “There’s no harm done in watching a group of fit, attractive boys kick around a ball as a team. If that’s what you’re into.”

“Mom!” Changkyun yelps, feeling his cheeks heat up quickly. “That’s not what I’m into.”

His mother turns to look over his shoulder at him. “Well, I’m just saying,” she continues. “If it was, that would be okay.”

Embarrassed beyond measure, Changkyun hurriedly puts the rest of his books and notebooks away into his bag and zips it up. His chair scrapes against the tiled floor as he pushes it back to stand. “I’m gonna watch some TV,” he announces, and then turns to leave the kitchen.

“Come out for dinner when I call you!” his mother says to his back. He makes a noise of affirmation in response, heading down the hall to his room.

He closes the door behind him, letting out the breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding. His shelves full of familiar books and comics and action figures greets him. Posters of superheroes adorn the walls. His favorites are Hawkeye and Iron Man, so they get the most real estate. He puts his bag on the floor by his bed and throws himself on top of his mattress, reaching for the pillow shaped like Captain America’s shield in the corner and hugging it to his chest.

“I don’t like boys,” he says aloud to himself, cringing at how it sounds. His heart thumps awkwardly in his chest in response, and he holds the shield tighter. Then, he sits up. He turns on the small television on top of his chest of drawers and pulls up his accounts, hoping to find something to watch that will take his mind off the topic.

.


	3. Chapter 3

Jooheon hones in on his location like a shark to blood in the water. It seems he’s always able to sniff Changkyun out whenever he has new gossip or important information (at least in his own opinion) to share. Either he has an amazing Changkyun-oriented compass, or Jooheon’s memorized his schedule for the new semester already.

Changkyun closes his locker, shifts the books in his arms and the strap of his bag over his shoulder, and turns around to Jooheon’s wide-eyed smile. _Ask me what I know_ , the expression reads, and Changkyun is all too familiar with it. He raises his eyebrows at him, knowing he’s going to hear whatever his friend wants to share with him even if he doesn't ask what Jooheon knows.

Other students get caught in the current of foot-traffic in the wide hall as they transition to their next classes, he and Jooheon like stone structures in a river. The lockers lining the hall on both sides are a deep navy blue against white walls, while green trim adorns the doorways and handrails to stairs. Changkyun supposes he's seen and been enrolled in schools with worse school colors.

After Changkyun purposefully lets a few moments pass by just to torture Jooheon, as expected his friend announces, “Did you hear about the party this weekend?”

Changkyun laughs, leaning up against the lockers. “Are you kidding? Me?”

“You’re not deaf,” Jooheon says, frowning. “You could hear things, if you paid attention.”

“I probably could,” Changkyun accedes, nodding slowly as though he’s processing a great piece of wisdom.

“Well,” Jooheon continues, undeterred. He leans against the lockers and faces Changkyun, and suddenly Changkyun feels like Jooheon’s going to ask him to some stupid school-sponsored dance, and his heart begins to beat faster. Jooheon certainly has that smug look on his face boys always seem to wear when they’re posturing, definitely about to embarrass themselves for the sake of looking cool, as though that smug look could protect them from inevitable failure. In Changkyun’s opinion, Jooheon completes the look with a backwards cap and baggy shirt.

Changkyun, in a sensible shirt that fits his body and jeans, braces himself.

“There’s a party this weekend at Hoseok’s, and we’re going,” Jooheon announces. “With Hyungwon, too.”

“Hoseok?” Changkyun asks incredulously, raising an inquisitive brow at the mention of the senior’s name. “Invited you?”

Jooheon immediately puffs up his chest. “Hey, hey, hey. We’re friends. I’m friends with Hoseok. I mean, okay, so Minhyuk is the one who actually invited me, but we’re still going.”

“Hm,” Changkyun says. “No.”

“No? Why not?”

Changkyun gives a perfectly legitimate reason. “I won’t know anyone there.”

“You’ll know me,” Jooheon retorts.

“I’ll know _one_ person there. Great.”

“C’mon,” Jooheon pleads, breaking out the puppy-dog eyes and ridiculous pout, acting cute. He takes Changkyun’s free hand between both of his hands, swinging back and forth. “Come with me to the party. It’ll be fun. You'll meet people! Won't that be nice." When Jooheon can see that argument does nothing to persuade Changkyun, he tries another tactic: "Hoseok-hyung is nice, and so is Minhyuk-hyung. In fact, Minhyuk-hyung will love you. He loves babying people and you’re actually a baby.”

“I’m not that much younger than you are!” Changkyun hisses, yanking his hand away and glancing around nervously to gauge if anyone had seen them, but the hallway is thinning out as students settle into their classrooms. Changkyun looks up at the digital clock at the end of the hall above the double doors to the courtyard and sees he has less than a minute left to get to his next class. “And I’m going to be late,” he says, thankful for the excuse to end this conversation. “I have to get going.”

“Okay,” Jooheon says. “But you’re also going to the party.”

Changkyun shakes his head, turning away from Jooheon, unable to hide the grin that spreads across his face at Jooheon’s persistence.

“I saw that!” Jooheon points out triumphantly, dimples on his face as he smiles wildly. “You’re coming, because you like me and want to make me happy.”

“I’m not,” Changkyun says, getting farther away from Jooheon. “And I don’t care about you.”

“This is why you have one-and-a-half friends, Changkyun,” Jooheon says. “But don’t fret; I’m here for you!”

“You’re ridiculous,” Changkyun shoots back over his shoulder. A single girl speed-walks past him, glaring at how loud they're being in the now-nearly-empty hall. He smiles at her and she walks faster. He points up at the clock. “And you’re going to be late.”

Jooheon cranes his neck to follow Changkyun's finger, and when he turns back around the smile has dropped from his face. “Shit! It’s History. I can’t be late to history.”

He’s gone before Changkyun can even think about waving good bye.

.

Changkyun makes it to class just as the electronic bell signals the end of the transition period, awkwardly lingering at the front of the classroom to see if Ms. Yoon will decide to write him up for his tardiness. She purses her lips at him but points with her chin to Changkyun’s seat, letting his almost-tardiness slide, especially since the other students are still settling, and he rushes back to his seat with a sheepish half-bow and apology to his teacher. She has a reputation for being fair but demanding, at times almost lax compared to other teachers at the school but can get away with it because of her knack for making even the hardest concepts seem easy. He apologizes to her again, and can feel the eyes of some of the students follow him as he walks down the aisle to his seat. A blush rises to his cheeks.

Kihyun is there in the seat before Changkyun’s, already doodling, not wearing a hoodie this time but a soft pink sweater that looks like it belongs to a giant with the way it sits on his frame. His black hair falls softly over his forehead, his lashes lowered and long as he focuses on whatever he is drawing. He’s wearing light eyeliner, and possibly even a bit of warm, rosy lip color.

“Hey,” Changkyun says, before he can catch himself.

Kihyun’s pen stops moving. His dark eyes flicker up to meet Changkyun’s before lowering again to the notebook on his desk, ignoring him.

The blush on the younger student’s cheeks deepens. Changkyun’s skin feels like it’s burning. He crashes into his seat, hastily busying himself with putting his bag away and taking out the necessary books and pens and other instruments needed for mathematics.

What the hell had come over him just now? He flips his notebook to the next empty page and scribbles down the date, staring steadfastly at the board as Ms. Yoon says her introductions and officially starts the lesson.

He squints at what Ms. Yoon has projected up onto the wall. Derivatives. Yes. He can learn about derivatives. He can do derivatives. He does not stare at Kihyun's back, at the slope of his pale neck.

He notices when Kihyuns glance up at the board, too, notices Kihyun’s pen move in repetitive, familiar ways that can only be him writing down what Ms. Yoon has instructed they write down. Ten minutes into the lesson, Changkyun watches Kihyun pillow his head on top of his arms on the flat surface of his desk. Kihyun’s eyes close, and his breathing steadies. And Changkyun realizes with a kind of horror he thinks only perfectionists can feel that Kihyun is taking a nap.

.


	4. Chapter 4

When the bell rings to signal the end of the period, Kihyun has still not woken up, despite the subtle ways Changkyun has tried to bring the other student back into the land of the conscious -- tapping the leg of Kihyun’s chair lightly with his foot, dropping his pen and scooting his desk with a screech against the laminated floors to reach it, calling out the answer to a problem Ms. Yoon writes on the board. Kihyun did not stir, seemingly relaxed, possibly even dreaming.

Even more incredulously, Ms. Yoon let Kihyun sleep.

There was a moment in which their teacher glanced at Kihyun’s sleeping form and then looked past him to meet Changkyun’s eyes, and he swears she shrugged at him, a tiny lift of her shoulders, a tilt of her head. And class continued.

But now it’s over, and all around Changkyun, students are packing up and jumping out of their seats to go to their next classes. For Changkyun, today calculus is right before his lunch period, and neither Jooheon nor Hyungwon share the same period, so he’s in no rush to leave. He'll spend it in the library. He packs slowly, and that is when Kihyun rouses, stretching his arms out over the front of his desk, rubbing lightly at his eyes with his fists, letting out an unrestrained yawn. Changkyun tries not to stare.

Just as Changkyun is rising out of his seat, Ms. Yoon says, “Changkyun, can you stay behind for a couple of minutes? I’ll write you a pass if needed.”

Changkyun nods and drops back into his seat. Panic laces through him quickly as he thinks back to what he might have done during class to warrant a reprimand from the teacher. Should he have tried harder to wake Kihyun up? Surely Ms. Yoon wasn’t going to hold him responsible for that, right? And he’d paid attention during class, took great notes, answered questions, raised his hand a couple of times. Maybe he'd talked _too_ much? 

He looks at Kihyun, whom he finds looking back at him. When their eyes meet, Kihyun raises his eyebrow at him, the corner of his lip lifting into an amused smirk. The other boy hefts his bag to his shoulder and stands, leaving the room with a little wave of his fingers that Changkyun can’t decipher.

“You’re not in trouble,” Ms. Yoon announces as the last of the other students clear out of the room. “I promise.” She goes to close the door but Changkyun can still hear the “oooh” that a student makes in sympathy as he goes into the hallway. Ms. Yoon approaches Changkyun, her heels clacking, and stands in front of his desk with one hand on her hip.

“Changkyun,” she says, and Changkyun suppresses the urge to snap to attention like he’s in the military. He looks up at her, jaw clenched tight. “You’re a good student. In very good standing. I was wondering if you would be open to helping Kihyun catch up on all the content he missed at the beginning of the semester?”

Changkyun stares at Ms. Yoon, the words processing slowly in his mind. “Uh,” Changkyun begins, raising his eyes to his teacher again, “like, I’d be his tutor?”

Ms. Yoon smiles. “Exactly. His tutor. You would meet twice a week after school. In the library or somewhere else. Just until he catches up. He missed the first two unit tests, both of which you aced, so you’ll be helping him to make up those two tests. In addition to the knowledge that you’re helping a fellow peer and the feeling that comes with that, I’ll also give you extra credit for this -- not that you need it.”

“I’ve never...taught anyone anything before,” Changkyun says, wondering why his teacher picked him of all people. There are plenty of other students in the class, all of whom are in the same grade as Kihyun. Wouldn’t it be weird for Changkyun to tutor someone older than he is?

And it’s true -- Changkyun’s never tutored anyone successfully before. He tried once, back in the States. There was a program where students in the middle school provided homework help to students in elementary school that his mother made him join, but he’d spent most of his time there trying and failing to get the younger students to stop playing basketball when they should have been doing their assignments.

“The way you explain the concepts in class -- you get it,” Ms. Yoon explains. “You get it quickly. And you explain it easily. And I think...you’ll be able to work well with Kihyun, too.”

“I don’t think he’ll want to work with me,” Changkyun says, remembering how just about an hour before, Kihyun had ignored his existence when he’d tried to greet him like a dumb kid with a crush.

“Oh?” Both of her hands are now on her hips, and Changkyun’s stomach begins to sink. He doesn't mean to be difficult, and he hates disappointing people, and Ms. Yoon is pursing her lips at him. Then she says, “But he’s already agreed.”

Ms. Yoon's next class begins to trickle in as Changkyun stares, confused. The bell to signal the end of the transition between periods rings. His teacher crooks her finger at him and beckons him to follow her to her desk, which he does, where she quickly writes him a note he can bring with him to his next class. He takes it, even though lunch is his next period and he won’t need it, too flustered to let Ms. Yoon know.

Kihyun? Has already agreed to tutoring sessions? Kihyun doesn’t even really know who he is -- right? He can’t imagine Kihyun remembering Changkyun’s first day of school. The older student had been assigned to be Changkyun’s student ambassador since Changkyun was a new student; Kihyun toured Changkyun around to all of his classes so he wouldn’t get lost in the tall building on his first day. He sat with him during lunch where he introduced Changkyun to his friends, and they'd all launched into conversation and jumped between different topics so quickly it had left Changkyun feeling like he was watching a game of ping pong rather than simply eating lunch. Changkyun had awkwardly picked at his sandwich and tried to answer questions when he'd been asked them, but couldn't help but feel like an unwanted little brother tagging along to his much cooler older brother's hangout.

Kihyun had checked in on him a couple of times after that day to see how things were going but Changkyun had quickly made it his mission to be as unobtrusive as possible in his new environment. To blend. And besides, he hated the brittle enthusiasm of the ambassador program -- the school arbitrarily puts together a new student with a returning student and expects them to become real life friends? Friendship doesn’t work like that. Changkyun doesn’t work like that.

He can’t remember what happened first: becoming friends with Jooheon, or Kihyun giving up on -- forgetting about -- becoming friends with him.

“Think about it and let me know tomorrow, okay?” Ms. Yoon says, handing him the note. “Tutoring would start on Monday of next week.”

Changkyun mumbles that he will think about it. He spends his lunch in the library, getting a jump start on his homework for the evening, trying not to let thoughts of the older student distract him.

.


	5. Chapter 5

“Hey,” Jooheon says, somehow already changed into his soccer gear despite the last bell having rung just moments ago. He's in athletic shorts and a t-shirt and socks that are pulled up to his knees, a track jacket dangling from his elbow and his bag hanging from his opposite shoulder. His cleats give him an inch in height, so that Changkyun has to look up when he turns to him.

"Hmm?" Changkyun mumbles, his small notepad where he keeps track of his assignments clenched between his teeth so that he could dig through his locker for the books he needs to bring home for the evening with both hands.

Jooheon takes the notepad out and holds it for him. “You coming to practice?” 

“Is there any particular reason why I should?” Changkyun asks, the noises and conversations from other departing students making him have to yell. One student runs past them down the hall, screaming for no reason that Changkyun can discern.

Jooheon shrugs, handing him his notepad again when Changkyun gestures for it. The younger boy stuffs it into his bag along with about a dozen other huge textbooks. “Hyungwon has poetry club so we were gonna meet up after to get ice cream at this new place that opened up.”

“It's the middle of winter,” Changkyun deadpans, zipping up his bag and hefting it over his shoulder. His knees nearly buckle from the weight of it. He closes his locker, spinning the lock.

Jooheon gives him a look of exasperation. “We’re not gonna eat it outside naked or anything.”

Changkyun returns, “I don't really feel like crashing your date,” and Jooheon pokes him in the side with his finger as they start to walk to the exit at the end of the hall.

“It's not a date, and it's not like you're doing anything else,” Jooheon whines.

This makes Changkyun stop short, and Jooheon jerks to a halt beside him, raising his eyebrows in question. A duo of students walks past them, throwing half-hearted insults behind their shoulders at them for stopping so abruptly in the middle of the hall.

“Actually,” Changkyun says, “Ms. Yoon asked me to start tutoring someone…”

“Today?” Jooheon asks, eyes wide and mouth hanging open. “Right now? Who? When? Why?”

“Starting Monday,” Changkyun mutters, choosing to answer only one of Jooheon's questions. He starts walking again, and predictably Jooheon follows, bouncing with each step like an excitable puppy.

“Are you going to do it? Figures you'd end up tutoring. Ms. Yoon...so it'll be for Calculus?” Jooheon gasps, a sharp sound, and brings his hand up to cover his mouth to emphasize the gesture. “Wouldn't you be tutoring a senior then?”

Changkyun nods, enjoying drawing the mystery out for his friend. Jooheon enjoys it too, even if he complains often about how short Changkyun can be sometimes in his responses.

“Someone I know?” Jooheon asks.

“Yup,” Changkyun says. They reach the doors, which have been propped open upon the last bell as though the school can't wait to get rid of the students inside of it.

“Hoseok?” Jooheon asks. He squints as the sun hits their eyes. “No...he's not taking calculus. Minhyuk?”

Changkyun shakes his head again and says, “Kihyun.”

Jooheon pauses in front of the doors, turning to Changkyun again with wide eyes. And then he bursts into laughter, loud and raucous and definitely a bit forced.

Changkyun frowns and takes an involuntary step back, and they move a little to the side of the entrance so that they don't block the other students. Outside, the sky is clear and the air is crisp, clean. The tip of Changkyun's nose is already freezing.

“What?” he asks, feeling a little stung by his friend's reaction.

“It's too good!” Jooheon exclaims, howling. Doubled over with laughter. Changkyun knows he's being a shit on purpose. “Kihyun? Remember how you used to have the biggest crush on him? Oh man, it's like a drama. Hyungwon is gonna love this.”

“I did not!” Changkyun says in an sudden gush of energy. He flushes, red in the face, and Jooheon quiets a little. “I did not have a crush. I don't even like boys. Why would you say something like that?”

Jooheon continues to laugh until he notices how quiet Changkyun is being, and then he straightens, his expression flattening and his laughter dying into a few uncertain chuckles and then into silence. He furrows his brows and reaches out to put his hand on Changkyun's shoulder. “Relax, man. It's not a big deal. It's just a joke.”

Changkyun bristles, his shoulders tight, brushing off Jooheon’s hand. He feels like an animal with its hackles raised and tries very hard to relax. “Well,” he huffs. “It's not funny.”

“Okay,” Jooheon says. His tone is softer, like he's talking to an upset child, and it makes Changkyun’s gut tighten in shame. “Okay, it's not funny. Sorry.”

They don't say anything for a moment, and Changkyun shifts his hands on the straps of his book bag awkwardly, wondering if it would be too much for him to simply turn around and leave. But then Jooheon says, “You should do it, though. It'll be good for, like, college applications? And get your mom off your back about after-school stuff. I know you said she was nagging you about shit like that.” Jooheon brightens, growing more enamored with the idea of Changkyun tutoring a senior. “Also...if I have practice and you tutor, we can hang out after!”

Jooheon's smile makes his face seem like it's glowing, and Changkyun sighs, deflating a bit, wondering how he got so lucky to make such a great friend when all he seems to be able to offer in return is the occasional sensitive outburst. The weird feeling in his gut dissolves.

“Just what I want. More time with you,” he teases his friend.

“I know,” Jooheon says. “You love me so much.”

“If by love, you mean tolerate,” Changkyun says, grinning.

Jooheon grins, too, and puts his hand back onto Changkyun’s shoulder, squeezing it. “I don’t,” he says, eyes twinkling.

.

It takes the bus ride home for Changkyun to convince himself it’s a good idea to accept Ms. Yoon’s offer. It’s true that he does need something to occupy his time -- he can’t expect to get into a good school without extra-curriculars, and somehow he thinks that putting down ‘comic book enthusiast’ as his only interest outside of school won’t cut it. And he's thought about teaching as a career, a little. It's almost impossible for him not to have, with his dad being a professor and all. 

His mom will be happy he’s getting out of the apartment. Ms. Yoon will be happy. Jooheon will be happy because even if they don’t hang out after tutoring sessions and practice, they’ll probably end up taking the bus home together.

And Kihyun. Kihyun might be happy.

But that doesn’t really matter, does it? Kihyun has to accept being tutored because he’ll likely fail the class otherwise. Changkyun wonders how much choice Kihyun had in picking him as his tutor. Had there been other options, and was Changkyun it? Did he have to settled? Was he really actually upset that Changkyun was chosen as his tutor?

Changkyun tries to shrug the questions off, not caring to go down that line of thinking.

He tells his parents about his new after-school activity, and they are both predictably pleased and supportive. He finishes his homework and eats dinner and plays a video game on their console in their living room for a couple hours before it’s time for bed, and then he washes up and reads a comic he has stashed in his nightstand until his eyelids begin to droop. He puts it away and turns off the light, eyeing the posters on his wall, wondering if Kihyun has posters on his wall, too. What would they be of?

He closes his eyes and turns onto his side, trying to go to sleep. A normal evening for a normal kid in a normal family.

.


	6. Chapter 6

Changkyun finds Ms. Yoon before the first bell of the day to tell her about his decision. She smiles and immediately hands him a packet of assignments that she has waiting on her desk, the thick stack of papers separated by colorful sticky tabs labeling the different lessons he will be covering with Kihyun. He takes it with both hands.

“Try to cover one lesson a week,” Ms. Yoon says. “And let’s plan to check in once a week to see how things are going, too. Would you like for me to tell Kihyun your decision or do you want to?”

Changkyun waffles, paralyzed by the choice for a moment, but then ends up stuttering out that he’d like for Ms. Yoon to let Kihyun know, please. She agrees, and he wonders if this extracurricular activity will end up being more than he bargained for.

.

When the bell rings for Calculus that day, Changkyun is already in his seat, his textbook and notebook on his desk. He watches the door as the remaining students trickle in, chatting with each other, and finds himself searching for a familiar head of black hair. He almost doesn’t notice when Kihyun enters the room with the hood of his sweater pulled up over his head, but then Ms. Yoon subtly gestures for the other student to approach her desk.

They exchange a few words quietly, Kihyun nodding, Ms. Yoon smiling and letting her gaze flicker to where Changkyun is sitting. Face heating up in a flash, Changkyun ducks his eyes and pretends to be busy scribbling something into his notebook. He steels himself for Kihyun’s approach, moments later, and bites his bottom lip when he sees a pair of beat up Vans stop in front of his desk.

“Hey.”

Kihyun’s voice is smooth and low, resonant. Changkyun looks up slowly as Kihyun sits in his seat in front of him, turned halfway so that he can face Changkyun.

“Hey,” Changkyun responds, thanking the powers-that-be that his voice doesn’t crack.

Kihyun’s lips quirk into a small smile, a tic, as he pulls the hood of his sweater down and ruffles his hair with his fingers. “Thanks for your help,” Kihyun says. “Ms. Yoon says you agreed to tutor me.”

Changkyun blinks at him. Where did the Kihyun go who was so lethargic he had taken a nap during class? The Kihyun who ignored his attempt at a greeting earlier this week? Was this the same guy? The rebuffed greeting still stings whenever Changkyun remembers it, though he’s tried to bury the embarrassing encounter in his memories. He’s not sure Kihyun even remembers being rude to him.

“It’s nothing,” Changkyun says quickly, quietly, as class is about to start. “I could use the extra credit.”

Kihyun’s smile deepens, turns sardonic with a quirk of his brow, and Changkyun remembers with a pang how lovely Kihyun had been on his first day of school, touring him around the building, patient with his questions. “You’re brilliant at this, though?” Kihyun says. “You don’t need the extra credit.”

The praise is given so nonchalantly that Changkyun takes a moment to process it as such. He feels his ears turn hot and pink. His heart flutters in his chest at the knowledge that Kihyun has paid attention to him, that he’s cared enough to recognize Changkyun’s strength in this subject area.

Or maybe Changkyun’s reading too much into it.

Kihyun turns in his seat to face the front of the class before Changkyun can respond.

.

That afternoon, Changkyun lies to his mother about spending the night at Jooheon’s over the weekend at Jooheon’s insistence. He supposes, in a way, he _will_ be spending the night at Jooheon’s. He’ll just be spending most of the night at this party his friend keeps hyping up. The lie doesn’t sit well in Changkyun’s gut, but he reasons that what his mother doesn’t know won’t hurt her. The way her eyes light up at knowing he'll be spending time with a friend doesn’t do much to alleviate the guilt.

Changkyun doesn’t know much about Hoseok, who’s hosting the party, other than that the senior is on the swim team and has a reputation for crying at swim meets when he medals. He supposes that’s enough to go on. When he shares this with Jooheon as they are getting ready in Jooheon's room, his friend laughs, giving Changkyun's shoulder an affectionate squeeze.

“It’ll be fun,” Jooheon promises, yet again, when Changkyun takes a look at himself in front of Jooheon’s body-length mirror and scowls at his reflection. “I talked more with Minhyuk-hyung about it and it’s not going to be huge, just friends of friends, a few girls. No pressure.”

“The pressure is me talking to people I don’t know,” Changkyun whines, fiddling with the hem of his black sweater.

“You’re not as awkward as you think you are,” Jooheon says.

“That still leaves plenty of room for awkward.”

They finish getting ready and leave Jooheon’s family's apartment -- Jooheon has told his parents they'll be spending the night at Hyungwon's -- and Hyungwon meets them at the bus stop, picture perfect with flawless skin and pouty lips and a turtleneck under the huge fluffy coat he’s wearing to ward off the cold. “Ugh,” Jooheon says when they see him, “can you stop looking like a model for once?”

“No,” Hyungwon says, grinning. “Can’t help that I’m just naturally beautiful.”

The three of them huddle under the awning of the bus stop, bouncing on their toes to keep blood flowing. Snow is beginning to melt from the last storm, but they have weeks until spring. Changkyun blows his hair from out of his eyes, too cold to take his hands out from his pockets, mentally going through the list of people he might find at the party. Hoseok, obviously. Minhyuk, who is one of Hoseok’s best friends, another senior with a penchant for the arts. He thinks that’s how Minhyuk and Jooheon know each other -- through Hyungwon, through a play or performance or show. Hyunwoo, another senior on the swim team. And girls.

Changkyun shivers, the wind making the cold seep through his jacket like fingers brushing over his skin.

“God gifted you with beauty but docked you on personality,” Jooheon teases as a bus pulls up to the stop. They board it, bickering about nothing important, and find space in the very back for the three of them to sit together, Changkyun squeezed between them in the middle wondering where at the party he’ll fit.

.


	7. Chapter 7

Hoseok's family lives in a building set back from the road, the complex insulated and gated, a tall fence surrounding the courtyard. Changkyun has to crane his neck in order to look at the top of the high rise, immediately impressed despite how much he wants not to be. He, Jooheon, and Hyungwon have to ring a bell at the front gate to be let into the courtyard, and then from there they have to sign in with the attendant in the lobby of Hoseok's building.

“This is like trying to get into an exclusive club,” Hyungwon mutters under his breath as they wait for the attendant to check their names against the list Hoseok must have provided him. Changkyun takes the moment to look around the lobby, wondering if he'll ever have the means to live in such splendor. If he'll ever even want that for himself.

The walls are white and glimmering, the ceilings high, and the desk the attendant stands behind seems to be made of marble -- upon closer inspection, it's glass tempered to look like marble. There's a waiting area to the side furnished with a slim sofa and glass tables, and behind the waiting area on the wall is a waterfall.

A _waterfall._ The sound of the water cascading from the ceiling to the pool of rocks echoes in the chamber-like space, both peaceful and intimidating.

“Party tonight, huh?” the attendant asks, eyes twinkling in a smile. Jooheon nods sheepishly, and the attendant only grins deeper, fatherly. “Just be careful, boys,” he says, and waves them through.

“I’m glad we didn’t pre-game,” Jooheon admits as they turn two corners to reach the elevators. “I’m, like, 100% sure he wouldn’t have let us in if we showed up drunk.”

“I’m sure he’s seen worse,” Changkyun says, thinking about the kids he’d grown up around in Cambridge, children of esteemed professors, legacies for the best universities in the States. Filthy rich, most of them, with personalities that spoke to the knowledge that they could get away with murder.

They ride the elevator to Hoseok’s floor and step out, and Changkyun’s heart beats carefully in his chest, not knowing what to expect.

.

It’s Minhyuk who opens the door, his hair blonde and bright, his smile even brighter. Even the sweatshirt he’s wearing has a sideways smile emoticon printed on the front. He’s holding a small plastic shot glass in one hand and pushes it into Jooheon’s. “You made it! Here.”

Jooheon takes the cup and brings it to his lips, throwing back the contents. His face wrinkles after. “Gross! What was that?”

“Rum,” Minhyuk says. “Heh, didn’t think you’d do that.” He ushers them inside.

The doorway opens up into a huge living space, and Changkyun realizes that Hoseok’s family’s apartment takes up about half the floor of the building. The living space branches off to one side, where he assumes the bedrooms and bathrooms must be. The kitchen is separated from the living room by a bar, sleek and white, and the wall farthest from them is made of glass, all windows. The floor-to-ceiling curtains have been stored to the side and the bridges over the Han River visible on the other side of the glass. Changkyun steps forward, feeling like a black inkblot on paper.

“You can put your coats in the guest room,” Minhyuk says. “I’ll show you.”

They follow Minhyuk as he winds his way through small groups of people chatting around drinks. The apartment isn’t filled to the brim, but Changkyun still doesn’t recognize over half of the people here. Most of them are probably seniors. Music is playing overhead, a familiar pop song that was likely put on the playlist because it wouldn't offend anyone.

The guest room is pristine except for the pile of coats and bags and purses on the bed. Minhyuk leaves them with a smile and a quick, “Come find me when you’re done. I’ll introduce you to people.”

They shrug themselves out of their jackets and throw them onto the bed. Hyungwon fixes his hair and clears his throat. When Changkyun looks at Jooheon, his friend’s cheeks are already a little pink, from the cold, from the alcohol. His chest feels a little tight, the way he felt when he was a kid getting up on stage to perform at a piano recital.

“Let’s go?” he asks, gesturing to the hallway. Hyungwon and Jooheon both grin, dimples appearing in their cheeks belying their nerves. For once, Changkyun feels like a part of their group, all three of them new and a little uncertain, stepping out together into the world.

.

Minhyuk, as promised, introduces them to his friends, the core group sitting around one of the couches in the living room. Hoseok smiles when he meets them, friendly and open, welcoming them to his home.

“My parents are overseas,” he explains when Hyungwon asks. “They don’t care as long as I clean up and no one dies or is arrested.”

Hyunwoo isn’t quite so open when he smiles, the grin sitting on his face awkwardly, but Minhyuk nudges him playfully with his shoulder and apologizes on behalf of him. “He’s friendlier than he looks,” he promises, draping himself over Hyunwoo’s lap, giddy and probably on his way to tipsy.

The girls are all beautiful. The two who linger after introductions are over are slender and lovely, their eyes hiding secrets and lined perfectly. Cheng Xiao, who is an international student from Shanghai, and Dayoung, who makes Changkyun’s cheeks heat up with her stare.

Changkyun doesn’t normally drink, but he makes an exception now to ease his nerves. Especially when Dayoung is the one who brings him a drink, her fingers brushing over his as she hands it over. The drink goes down smoother than he expected, and then conversation goes smoother than he expected, too. He finds himself almost an hour later still talking to her, turned to her on the couch, telling her about his life overseas.

It’s hard not to spill everything about yourself when a pretty girl is asking you all these interesting questions. He finds himself wondering what it would be like to kiss her, looking at her perfect, pink lips. What it would be like to hold her hand. Girls are so soft and pretty, he thinks. Terrifying.

“Kihyunnie!” Minhyuk’s shout jars him out of conversation with Dayoung, and his eyes automatically travel to the source of the noise. He looks to the front door, where Minhyuk is wrapping his arms around a bewildered Kihyun, the other senior’s expression slightly alarmed but mostly amused. The coat he’s wearing swallows his small frame.

Changkyun doesn’t know what they’re talking about as they move toward the group. Kihyun’s holding two boxes of pizza in his hands, the smell wafting through the living space and turning heads.

“Hello?” Dayoung says in a melodic voice. “Changkyunnie? You were saying?”

Changkyun’s eyes snap back to Dayoung in front of him. He blinks. “What?”

Dayoung huffs out a breath, annoyed. Changkyun wonders if he should find the action cute. “You were talking about your trip to California.”

“Oh…” Changkyun mutters. “Right.”

Kihyun puts the boxes of pizza on the table in front of the couch, slipping out of his jacket and leaving it over the back of the furniture, and Minhyuk takes Kihyun by the wrist, pulling him to the group, where Hoseok scoots over to make room so that he can sit by him. Changkyun is on the opposite end of the couch, and Kihyun on the sectional. Kihyun hyun's hair is styled up, his undercut visible. He has a little freckle next to his lips that Changkyun has never noticed before. Their eyes meet, and Kihyun smiles at him.

Changkyun drops his gaze, fiddling with the drink in his hands. “It was fun,” he says roughly to Dayoung. “You should go when you get the chance.”

Dayoung frowns, her expression contemplative. She looks between Changkyun and the people on the sectional and back again. “I’m getting another drink,” she announces, and then she gets up to go to the makeshift bar in the kitchen.

.

Before he can deploy any kind of evasive maneuver, Kihyun is sitting next to Changkyun on the couch. “Hey,” Kihyun greets, level and pleasant in a way that makes Changkyun’s stomach do somersaults.

“Hi,” Changkyun says.

“Didn’t think I’d see you here,” Kihyun says. Changkyun can’t look directly at him or his face will burn up. He settles for looking at Kihyun’s left earlobe.

“Uh,” Changkyun explains. “Jooheon.”

Kihyun nods despite his scarce explanation, his face lighting up. “Oh, yeah, Minhyuk knows Jooheon through that show they did together. The talent show last year? They MC'd. You weren’t here yet.”

“Nope,” Changkyun agrees, brain zooming at a million miles an hour trying to come up with a way to continue the conversation. He blanks.

“What are you drinking?” Kihyun asks, nodding at the cup in Changkyun’s hand.

Changkyun looks at it as though it’s a foreign object. At first, the alcohol burned, but now it’s not so bad. And it’s made his limbs feel light, like he’s filled with bubbles. “Honestly, no idea,” he says, hiccuping once. Kihyun giggles, and it makes Changkyun blush and want to crawl into a hole. “Did you -- did you want?” Changkyun manages to ask, holding the cup out for Kihyun. “I mean, not to share. I mean, we could go to the kitchen for a drink?”

“No, no,” Kihyun says, shaking his head and still grinning. “I can’t drink.”

“Oh,” Changkyun says, shoulders slumping. The conversation lulls. He pulls at the collar of his sweater, wondering if he’s the only person who feels like he’s just walked into a furnace. “So, uh, tutoring on Monday, huh?”

Kihyun’s eyes glimmer. To Changkyun, they look like they are full of stars. “Yup.”

“Cool,” Changkyun says.

Another lull. Kihyun bops his head around to the music. He says, “I’m going to put my things away, okay? Be right back.”

“Okay,” Changkyun says, watching him leave. He downs the rest of his drink, coughing, and then gets up to hunt for Jooheon and Hyungwon. He can’t stay here and continue to make a fool of himself in front of the senior, especially when Kihyun is obviously talking to him out of pity. The only choice is to leave. Leave and never return. Possibly to leave Seoul. Yeah, that makes sense.

He finds Hyungwon in the kitchen talking to someone unfamiliar. When Changkyun approaches with the suggestion that they go home, Hyungwon only raises his brows at him, crossing his arms in front of his chest. “I’m talking to Gunhee,” Hyungwon says, with a pointed look that Changkyun thinks must mean something. His mind does nothing with the signal, can’t discern any sort of hidden meaning from it.

“Fine,” Changkyun says. “I’ll look for Jooheon, then.”

He finds Jooheon making out with a girl outside the bathroom. He taps on Jooheon’s shoulder and they break apart and Changkyun only feels a little guilty as a result of the girl shooting him daggers with her eyes. “What?” Jooheon asks.

Changkyun announces, “I’m gonna go.”

Jooheon blinks. “What? Now?”

“Yeah,” Changkyun says. “Don’t worry. Stay here and…” He waves his hand toward the two of them.

“You okay, dude?” Jooheon asks, concern making his eyebrows dip.

“I’m fine,” Changkyun says. “I’m just going to go. Home.”

“Uh,” Jooheon says, “okay, well, do you want me to go with you?”

“No!” Changkyun says, more aware now of how annoyed the girl looks. She’s no longer shooting daggers but flaming arrows. “No, it’s okay. I just wanted you to know? So you wouldn’t look for me later. I’m -- not feeling well. I’ll just go home.”

Jooheon doesn’t look convinced, narrowing his eyes at Changkyun, but he sighs and nods and says, “Text me when you’re home, okay?”

Changkyun tells him he will. He grabs his coat from the guest room and stays close to the walls as he makes his escape to the front door. He doesn’t go home; he goes to the river that separates the city into two, and walks along the path in the park until the sun rises an hour later, thinking about what it would be like to kiss a boy with stars in his eyes.

.


	8. Chapter 8

After school, Changkyun is surprised to find the library is brimming with groups working together on assignments, diligent perfectionists bent over their text books and hunched in front of their laptops typing out essays long before due dates, and the lost students who don't belong to any clubs but also don't want to go home just yet. He doesn't often go to the library after school -- he'd much rather wander home slowly, contemplative over the day while taking in the warmth of the afternoon sun or shivering under an umbrella if it's raining. Homework, and school in general, tend to come easy to him, though he doesn't like to credit this to his brains but rather his tendency when he was younger to hole up in his room to read and think. He likes solving puzzles. He likes being presented a problem in the text and formulating a response or solution. Perhaps, in this way, he takes after his father.  
  
Changkyun waits for Kihyun at a table in the middle of the library that by chance he was able to snag when the group sitting at it packed up and left. He spreads his things out over the table -- textbook, papers, his notebook, pens -- to take up space and to discourage others from sitting with him. He thinks it will be easy for Kihyun to spot him as soon as he enters the library's doors.   
  
They'd exchanged a few words during class today, agreeing to meet shortly after the last bell of the day. Changkyun hadn't been able to look him in the eye, thinking for sure that if he did, Kihyun would be able to see right through him and know Changkyun had been thinking about him.   
  
And not in a harmless, innocent way. He'd been thinking about Kihyun's lips. About the little freckle at the corner of his mouth. He'd been thinking about what Kihyun would look like after being kissed, the flush on his cheeks, the sparkle in his eyes. Did he kiss with his eyes open, or shut? Changkyun had only kissed two people other than his parents in his life, and they had both been girls. He kissed them with his eyes open, certain that if he closed them he'd miss something and mess up.   
  
Shaking his head to rid that train of thought, Changkyun attempts to distract himself further by pulling out the packet that Ms. Yoon had provided him for he and Kihyun to review. He flips through the first couple pages, reading over the notes he'd written for himself in the margins over the weekend. The subject matter, Changkyun thinks, is relatively simple, foundational. But if Kihyun doesn't get these rudimentary building blocks down, he's going to have a lot of trouble keeping up in class.   
  
A swell of panic builds up in Changkyun's chest at the thought. He's responsible for Kihyun's success in Calculus! If Kihyun fails, it's on him. If Kihyun doesn't graduate, it's on him! Changkyun grips his pen in his hand tighter, exhaling slowly, remembering how Ms. Yoon had pulled him aside that morning after class to remind him that she would be supporting them the whole way. "Remember, I asked for your help because I believe you can do it," she had said, even pumping her fist in a mini-cheer. "I'll be around, lesson planning and grading and what-not, if you really need me to intervene."   
  
"It's just tutoring," Changkyun mutters to himself, flipping through the packet again. "And it's just Kihyun."   
  
But Changkyun is starting to think Kihyun isn't _just_ anything or anyone, no matter how much he tries to convince himself.   
  
.   
  
Kihyun enters the library ten minutes after the last bell, one strap of his back pack slung over his shoulder and his jacket over his arm. Changkyun notices him immediately, hyper-aware of the comings and goings at the door. He watches Kihyun scan the room, the stacks filled with books along the back wall, the tables where Changkyun is sitting in the very middle one. Changkyun wonders if he should wave, but is saved from making the decision when Kihyun's face lights up upon spotting him.   
  
Kihyun waves, grin spreading across his lips, and moves toward Changkyun, who, after a few moments, realizes he's been staring and hastily looks down at the papers in front of him, a blush rising to his cheeks.   
  
"Hey," Kihyun says, his voice light and airy. "Sorry I'm a little late. Was talking to Hoseok-hyung."   
  
"No worries," Changkyun replies without thinking.   
  
Kihyun takes the seat across from him, slinging his bag to the floor by his chair and scooting closer to the table with a few abrupt movements, his hair falling in front of his face. "We didn't get to catch up earlier," Kihyun says, still smiling. "How was the rest of your weekend?"   
  
"Oh," Changkyun says. He blinks, taken aback. He hadn't been expecting Kihyun to care. "It was fine. Just stayed in and played video games...finished up homework."   
  
Kihyun nods, worrying his bottom lip between his teeth. "I see! You left Hoseok's so quickly. I was worried. Jooheon told me you weren't feeling well. So you're feeling better?"   
  
Changkyun's heart clenches in his chest with guilt. He hates how he feels when he lies, and he'd almost completely forgotten about the little lie he'd told Jooheon so he could leave the party in peace. Like a scared little puppy with his tail between his legs. "Yeah," he begins slowly. "Thank you, uh, hyung. I didn't mean to make you worry."   
  
Kihyun's grin spreads across his whole face. Dimples form in his cheeks. Changkyun's heart un-clenches, flutters faster. "I'm just glad you're okay," Kihyun says. "You have to take care of yourself."   
  
"Right," Changkyun tries to say, but his voice gets caught in his throat, and it comes out in a whisper.   
  
.   
  
Tutoring Kihyun comes easy once Changkyun puts up an invisible mental wall in his mind that puts Kihyun in the same category as, say, Dayoung, or Jooheon, or Hyungwon. Well, maybe not Hyungwon.   
  
The first thing they tackle is functions. Inputs and outputs, all in under ten minutes. Kihyun, Changkyun finds, is pretty good at reading over the material, repeating the information in the way he understands, and then applying it in practice. A good student, Changkyun thinks, admiring the way Kihyun is flying through the lesson.   
  
Twenty minutes into the tutoring session, though, they both start to lose momentum. Changkyun has started on his own homework as Kihyun works through the problem set associated with the first lesson, occasionally tapping Changkyun on the hand for his attention to help with something he doesn't understand. When Changkyun looks up to gauge Kihyun's progress next, though, Kihyun is leaning his head into the palm of his hand with his elbow on the table, staring at the door.   
  
"Stuck?" Changkyun asks.   
  
Kihyun turns sharply to him, the pencil in his hand flying across the table and scattering to the floor, startled. He chuckles sheepishly. "Sorry," he says, making to get up for the pencil, but Changkyun is nearer, and gestures for Kihyun to stay where he is as he fetches the pencil for him. "Thanks," he says, when Changkyun hands him the pencil. "I got distracted."   
  
Changkyun smiles gently. "It's okay, hyung."   
  
"Hey," Kihyun says suddenly, looking much more alert and focused again. He crosses his arms on the table and leans forward over them. "Do you remember your first day of school?"   
  
Changkyun sits back in his seat, swallowing. "Yeah...?"   
  
Kihyun's gaze narrows on him, like a falcon spotting a mouse in a field. "I took you around the school," he says.   
  
"Yeah," Changkyun says again, unsure where this is going. Of course he remembers his first few days of school. Remembers feeling so distinctively new, remembers how uncomfortable he'd been in his own skin. For the first few weeks of school, he'd wanted desperately to return to Cambridge. He'd even asked his parents if he could go back for boarding school. But his parents had wanted him to stay, and soon after, he'd become friends with Jooheon.   
  
Kihyun says, "You didn't like it?" He frowns.   
  
"Wha--" Changkyun splutters. "What?"   
  
"You just sort of," Kihyun begins, pursing his lips in thought, "stopped talking to us? Which is fine. I just, uh, never mind." Kihyun drops his gaze to his papers again, his fingers playing with the pencil, fiddling with it.   
  
And Changkyun feels like an ass. He'd never really considered thinking about what Kihyun would feel at Changkyun's attempts to disappear, to distance himself. He just assumed Kihyun and his friends wouldn't care. Changkyun had pretty much been an assignment for Kihyun, after all. It's easier, not caring. About anything.   
  
"It was nice," Changkyun tries. "It was just weird hanging out with people who were older than I am...felt like you were babysitting me." He mumbles the last bit, and to his relief, Kihyun cracks a smile.   
  
"Well," Kihyun says slowly. "I'm not interested in babysitting."   
  
Changkyun doesn't really know what to do with that. A strange tension rises between them that Changkyun's never really experienced before. It isn't completely unpleasant, and makes Changkyun's ears turn red. But he still wants to diffuse it.   
  
"I was wondering," he says, his voice strangely gruff, "where you were over the holidays? You missed so much school."   
  
The corners of Kihyun's lips droop, as do his shoulders, almost imperceptibly. "Oh," he says quietly, ducking closer to Changkyun. "I was in the hospital." He frowns, eyebrows furrowing. "I haven't told a lot of people."   
  
Changkyun feels his limbs stiffen. Act natural, his brain is telling him, but he can't. What is he supposed to say in a situation like this? What do social graces dictate? It's not like when someone tells you someone has passed, and you're supposed to offer condolences. Or is it?   
  
He looks past Kihyun, at the books on the shelves, then at the tables where students are still sitting in scattered pairs and small groups, wondering if anyone has overheard. No one seems to have. He looks at Kihyun again, and says, "I'm sorry."   
  
Kihyun shrugs. "It's not _your_ fault."   
  
"What were you--"   
  
"I don't really want to talk about it yet," Kihyun says, interrupting Changkyun and shooting him a small grin as though it's a peace offering. "Sorry."   
  
"Oh, yeah, sure." Changkyun stumbles through his response. "Of course, hyung."   
  
The grin spreads across Kihyun's lips again. "You're calling me hyung," he points out.   
  
"Should I not?"   
  
"No, I like it," Kihyun says. "Keep doing it."   
  
Kihyun ducks his head and goes back to the problem set, finishing the last five questions quietly as Changkyun watches.   
  
Changkyun dreams that night of Kihyun lying in a hospital bed, of the way his lashes flutter over his cheeks when he looks down with a grin, of functions and integers, of formulas written across his skin.   
  
.


	9. Chapter 9

"Okay," Changkyun says, plopping his book down onto the table along with the stack of handouts Ms. Yoon prepared, a stack that is dwindling by the day. "Today we're doing trigonometric functions."

Kihyun squints at him, understandably, and says, "Great." He sits back in his seat, arms crossed low over his belly, and his chin dips down to his chest. There are shadows under his eyes. Changkyun swears his eyelids flutter shut for a moment, but then Kihyun is blinking and shaking it off.

"You okay?" Changkyun asks, concerned. He sits across from Kihyun. Over the past few sessions, they've managed to develop a rapport, though Changkyun wouldn't take any of the credit for himself in building it. Kihyun is sociable where Changkyun is weird, patient about his idiosyncrasies, and just sharp enough to compliment Changkyun's penchant for dry sarcasm rather nicely. They have sessions that move quickly, where they are both fluid and at their best, going through the material like a chipper through wood. Then they have sessions that move like molasses; sometimes it's because the material is thick and convoluted and Changkyun can't find the right words to explain the concepts, but sometimes it's because Kihyun isn't all there. His mind is clearly elsewhere, and try as Changkyun might, he hasn't found a way to bring him back on these days.

Changkyun hasn't asked him about it. Not since that first session, when Kihyun shared he'd been in the hospital. And they move quickly enough through the material on other days that they haven't fallen behind.

"What?" Kihyun asks, sitting up straighter and breathing in deep.

"I just asked if you were okay."

"I'm fine," Kihyun says, flashing Changkyun a quick smile. "Just tired. I didn't sleep much last night."

Changkyun frowns, tapping the book in front of him with his pencil. "We can reschedule," he offers, "maybe you should rest."

"No, it's okay," Kihyun insists. "I had some of Hoseok's Monster before. It should kick in soon."

Changkyun raises an eyebrow at him. "Do you drink a lot of energy drinks?"

Kihyun laughs quietly, and Changkyun isn't sure if it's his natural laugh or if he's trying to restrain himself because he's in the library. He realizes he hasn't heard Kihyun laugh in a long time, not in the limited interactions he's had with him, anyway, since he came back.

"Is that judgment I hear?" Kihyun teases. "Who are you to judge the caffeine habits of your senior?"

"Just a lowly sophomore," Changkyun acknowledges with a sigh, a sly grin. He thinks Kihyun's cheeks turn slightly pink as the older boy looks away.

"I'll be fine," Kihyun says again, stretching his arms over his head, the sleeves of his sweater caught in his fists. "And besides, I told Hoseok I'd meet him after swim practice to hang out, so I need something to do until then."

Changkyun quips, "And I'm something to do?"

In the pregnant pause that follows, Changkyun's ears are immediately struck with heat. He feels his eyes widen as Kihyun stares at him, his pink lips slightly parted.

"I mean," Changkyun says, clearing his throat and trying hastily to take back his words. "Uh."

Kihyun bursts out laughing, this time not so quiet. It reminds Changkyun of a tiny, yapping puppy, and he can't help the flutter of feeling in his chest at the image of the older student as a cute pet. Kihyun folds over onto the surface of the table between them, buries his face into his arms, his shoulders shaking. "Sorry," Kihyun manages between breaths. "I just wasn't expecting--"

Changkyun waits, and as he watches Kihyun try to calm, he oscillates between cringing embarrassment and careful endearment, because horrible as the quip was, it made Kihyun laugh. Gradually, the laughter stops, and the heat retreats from Changkyun's ears.

"Yes, Changkyun," Kihyun says, wiping at the corners of his eyes where tears have gathered. "You're definitely something."

They get through the lesson without any further mishaps, the small smile lingering on Kihyun's lips making Changkyun's feel light, like he has grown wings.

.

Changkyun finds out that Kihyun and Hoseok usually meet up after Kihyun's tutoring sessions and Hoseok's swim practice to hang out. A couple of weeks into tutoring Kihyun, Hoseok starts showing up before the end of the lesson, smelling faintly like chlorine and his hair still damp from a quick rinse after laps in the pool. He sits at the end of their table, patiently waiting for their lesson to be over, playing games on his phone or even occasionally working on homework, though the latter usually takes some nagging from Kihyun for Hoseok to even consider.

"Did practice get out early?" Changkyun asks, the next time Hoseok shows up with a cheerful wave and crooked, warm smile.

Hoseok shakes his head. "Ended at the same time," he says. "You guys have just been going late, so." He shrugs, and Changkyun checks the time on his phone. 5:15PM. 15 minutes past, and Changkyun hadn't even noticed.

"Hyung," he wheedles Kihyun, who is working through today's problem set diligently. "You should have told me. I didn't mean to keep you."

Kihyun looks up at him, blinking. "I didn't even notice," he says sheepishly, pink rising to his cheeks. "I should apologize! You're the one volunteering to help me."

"Ahem," Hoseok interrupts, sticking out his bottom lip in a pout. "You should both apologize to me, because I'm the one being kept waiting."

"Stop being a baby," Kihyun teases, which only further intensifies Hoseok's pout. Kihyun sighs and his expression softens. "I'm almost done. 5 minutes? Both of you?"

"Sure, hyung," Changkyun says agreeably. It's not like he has anything else to do. And he enjoys watching how Kihyun concentrates, his tongue darting out to the corner of his lips as he tackles each problem.

Hoseok slumps forward onto the table with an exaggerated sigh. "Fine," he says, "but we're going to the park with the noodle stand."

When Kihyun's finished with the handouts, Changkyun checks them over and marks a few areas where he sees Kihyun has overlooked a step in the process, and Kihyun fixes his mistakes quickly. "You're getting it, hyung," Changkyun says, a little proud. "You're really quick."

Kihyun beams, and the wide smile makes Changkyun's breath escape from his lungs. He tries to remember to breathe.

Hoseok says, "Yah! Don't praise him so much; he'll get an even bigger ego."

"Don't listen to him, Changkyun," Kihyun says as they're packing up. "Praise me all you want. It's how I learn."

Changkyun laughs, because he doesn't think it would be appropriate to say the things that come to mind immediately when Kihyun says that. Things like, _You look beautiful when you laugh_ , and, _I dreamed about the stars in your eyes_. Wouldn't be appropriate to say at all. He thinks about the girls he's kissed, and tries to remember if they'd ever invoked these words within him. Surely they must have, right? They were, after all, soft and pretty and made for such words.

Right?

"Oh yeah," Kihyun continues, oblivious to Changkyun's innermost thoughts. He's standing, now, and Hoseok is standing, too. "Do you want to hang out with us? We're just going to walk around the park a bit. Hoseok really likes that noodle stand so we'll eat a little, too."

Changkyun gets up from his seat, naturally following both of them to the library doors. "I don't know," he hedges, too accustomed to turning down Jooheon's spontaneous invitations to chill. "I've got so much...homework."

Kihyun rolls his eyes. Standing side by side like this, Changkyun notices for the first time they're the same height. Nearly. Changkyun might be a tiny bit taller. Or it might be the shoes.

"You did all your homework and tomorrow's already," Kihyun says. "C'mon, Changkyun. It'll be fun."

"And the noodles are really good," Hoseok adds, licking his lips. 

"Well, when you offer free noodles..." Changkyun says. He looks at both older students pointedly, and Hoseok smiles innocently back at him. 

"What's that?" Hoseok asks, cupping his hand over his ear. "Do we have a freeloader?"

Kihyun shoves him out of the door with surprising force, and Hoseok yelps, stumbling over his feet but chuckling, clearly used to it, his laughter contagious. "You're rich as balls," Kihyun says, almost sternly. "The least you could do is buy my tutor a cheap meal."

Hoseok straightens and comes to walk on Changkyun's other side, throwing his arm over Changkyun's shoulder in camaraderie. "Okay, okay. But I get to choose your toppings, and if you don't like it, I get to eat it."

"Uh," Changkyun says. "Deal?"

Hoseok shouts, perceiving victory, pulling Changkyun completely under his arm so that he can ruffle his hair even as Changkyun squawks in protest. And Kihyun watches them, a fond smile tugging at his lips, at the deep well of Changkyun's heart.

.


	10. Chapter 10

The park, Changkyun realizes, is the same park where he'd wandered after Hoseok's party, down by the river. He hadn't noticed in the middle of the night, but the walkway by the river is separated from the main road by a long, wide strip of green grass, and the grass is broken up by play structures, and open concrete, and benches, and food stands.

"I've been here before," he tells the other two boys, hands on the straps of his book bag over his shoulders. His breath comes out before him in white puffs, and he looks at Kihyun, the tip of whose nose is pink.

"That may be so," Hoseok says cheerfully, "but have you eaten at every food stand in the park?"

Changkyun shakes his head and Kihyun reaches out to poke Hoseok's side. Hoseok twitches and laughs, shouting about how ticklish he is, and Changkyun grins. It feels like he's known the both of them for much longer than just a couple of months. He can't recall when was the last time he's felt this way about anyone, even Jooheon.

A tiny seed of guilt worms its way into Changkyun's chest at the thought of Jooheon, and then of Hyungwon. He wishes he could be a better friend. He wishes everything could feel as easy as talking to Kihyun, now. He wonders if it's easy for Kihyun too, to talk to Changkyun, to be with Changkyun.

"I came here after Hoseok hyung's party that one night," Changkyun says, the words slipping out casually. Kihyun's hand loops through his elbow, and he leans close against Changkyun's side. Changkyun feels his breath catch in his throat as they walk together like that, towards the river and then down the walkway by the water to a section of covered stalls in the distance.

"When you were feeling sick?" Kihyun asks, eyebrows furrowing. "Alone? You should have just gone home."

Though touched by his concern, Changkyun grimaces at his slip up. "I just...couldn't resist walking by the river at night, I guess."

Kihyun's arm tightens around his, and he gives him a shake as Hoseok laughs, the corners of their eyes crinkling. Kihyun says in a knowing voice, "You're a closet romantic, huh? Do you watch all the dramas? I bet you do."

"You say this like you don't," Hoseok teases.

The breeze off the water ruffles their hair. Hoseok pulls the hood of his coat over his head, complaining about the chill, but Kihyun lets the wind whip through his dark locks, squeezing Changkyun's arm and huddling closer for warmth.

Changkyun had noticed how Kihyun touches easily; he likes being in physical contact with someone. When Changkyun is explaining a confusing concept to him during tutoring, Kihyun would often reach across the table to put his hand over Changkyun's, squeezing lightly as Changkyun speaks. At first it had distracted Changkyun so much he would have to do the lesson over, but now he is getting used to it. Likes it, even.

He's never considered himself a romantic, but when Kihyun's hair flutters past his nose he smells lavender and mint and wonders why the scent seems pulled from the secret corners of his mind.

.

Students in and out of uniform, men and women in office attire, and families linger around the block dedicated to the food stands, and the three boys have to wind their way through the crowd to reach the stall they are looking for. The noodle stall is sandwiched between a newer coffee stand and waffle cart, the sweet scents from both mingling in the air and overpowering the smell of fried noodles. The woman at the stand greets Hoseok warmly when she sees him, gesturing at him over the heads of other students waiting in line for a serving of food. He waves back at her, and Hoseok tells Changkyun and Kihyun to wait while he gets the food.

"Let's eat it by the river," Kihyun suggests, when Hoseok returns to them with two small plates of fried noodles and three pairs of disposable wooden chopsticks.

"What is it?" Changkyun asks, peering at each plate Hoseok is holding, steam still escaping from the platters. Kihyun takes one from him, and fishes out a wad of napkins from his pocket upon seeing Hoseok had neglected to pick some up from the cart.

Hoseok grins, using his free hand to pinch a noodle strand between his fingers and slurp it into his mouth, and Kihyun wrinkles his nose at him. "Stir-fried ramyun," Hoseok says. "It's good! I got one with spam and kimchi and one with ham and onions. Try it." He hands Changkyun a pair of chopsticks.

They find an empty bench on the walkway facing the water. The river moves past them at an indiscernible speed, the water gray like metal, the sun already setting behind the tall buildings of Seoul. The street lights have come on. Kihyun sits between Changkyun and Hoseok, both plates of noodles in his lap.

"It's so nice here," Kihyun says, staring out over the water. Hoseok breaks a pair of chopsticks apart, and hands them to Kihyun. Then he does the same thing for himself.

"You say that every time," Hoseok replies with a chuckle. He digs into their snack, clearly savoring each bite. Changkyun eats with less vigor, a little wary of having to lean over to take food from Kihyun's lap each time. The noodles, though, are indeed delicious.

"It's worth it to say." Kihyun's lips form a small smile. "It's a reminder."

"Do you remember the first time I brought you here?" Hoseok asks, his mouth half-full of noodles. Changkyun makes a face and Hoseok closes his mouth and swallows, grinning sheepishly.

"Oh yeah," Kihyun says, sitting back as he reminisces. "You were so excited, and then you'd forgotten to bring any cash... That had been impressive."

"I _so_ wanted to impress you," Hoseok says. "Changkyun-ah, do you like the food?"

Changkyun blinks, surprised at a quick question tossed at him, and nods, watching them both. The way they are with each other, their familiarity, the ease with which Kihyun smiles around Hoseok. He clears his throat and stutters, "Are you -- guys -- dating?"

Kihyun's eyes slowly widen into saucers. Hoseok chews on his bottom lip. And then Kihyun begins to laugh. Hoseok, watching him, begins to laugh also. "We did for a little bit," Hoseok says, eyes fond. "We realized we were better as friends."

"I didn't mean to assume," Changkyun says hastily, "or make things awkward." He feels his cheeks heat up, but Hoseok just shakes his head with his lips curved into a smile, and Kihyun leans against Changkyun just slightly, his weight meant to comfort.

"It's okay," Kihyun says. "You weren't too far off the mark, I guess."

"When did you date?" Changkyun asks.

Kihyun raises his eyebrows in slight surprise, tilts his head, but Changkyun can see his shoulders stiffen under his jacket. "Freshman year?"

"So," Changkyun starts, knowing what he's about to say is going to sound awful but not able to stop himself from saying it, like the words are being pulling from between his lips by an invisible string. A reflex, almost. "You're, like, gay."

Kihyun's eyebrows dance across his forehead and Changkyun cringes internally at himself. He hadn't meant for it to come out that way. Hoseok's expression is guarded, wary. "I mean," Changkyun tries, then stops, unsure how he wants to continue. His chest feels tight, like someone has wrapped a rope around him.

"I'm, like, gay," Kihyun says. "Hoseok identifies pan. Is that a problem?"

"No, no, no," Changkyun says immediately. "That's not -- I mean -- I guess I was just wondering -- when did you know?"

Kihyun's expression softens minutely, and Changkyun breathes. In and out. Kihyun puts his hand over Changkyun's, a feather light touch, but Changkyun curls his fingers and slips out from underneath his palm, not missing the disappointment and hurt that flashes across Kihyun's eyes. Guilt lances through him again, but he can't take back that small action.

"Elementary school," Kihyun says. "Or, always, I guess." 

"Similar for me," Hoseok says.

Changkyun hums in acknowledgment, unsure how to move forward from here. The sun has set completely. Stars stud the night sky, the city lights drowning many of them out. "I made it weird," Changkyun says. "I'm sorry."

The breeze ruffles across their cheeks and the tops of their knuckles. A small boat is passing under the bridge nearby, and Changkyun watches the light at the top of the boat flash white and red as it travels over the water.

"It's fine, Changkyun," Kihyun says. "Sometimes when you don't understand something, it's hard to talk about it. So I don't mind the questions."

"Just don't be a dick about it?" Hoseok offers, smirking with the corner of his mouth. He's eaten the rest of the noodles. Kihyun piles the plates and napkins on top of his lap, taking their chopsticks, also.

"I'll try not to be a dick about it," Changkyun promises.

Kihyun gets up to throw their trash away in a bin that's out of earshot from the bench, and Hoseok closes the distance between himself and Changkyun with one smooth slide across the seat. "Are you really okay with it?" Hoseok asks, keeping his voice low.

"Yeah," Changkyun says, unable to look away from the earnest light in Hoseok's eyes. "I promise."

"Good," Hoseok says. He nods, satisfied. "Don't hurt him with this, Changkyun."

He won't. He couldn't. His jacket smells like lavender and mint when he gets home.

.


	11. Chapter 11

The first unit test Kihyun will be taking is on Friday, bringing their tutoring sessions to just about halfway finished.

Changkyun carefully pours the dry batter mix into a large glass bowl sitting on the kitchen counter. The first unit test Kihyun will be taking is on Friday, and Changkyun is making cookies, his laptop on the kitchen table playing _Captain America: The Winter Soldier_ for the hundredth time on its small screen. As the movie plays, he finds himself mouthing familiar lines of dialogue, pausing in his mixing every once in a while to catch up on a scene. It helps him unwind. He thinks he's probably over-mixed the batter by now, but he'd only bought the one box.

He’d been struck by inspiration on the way home, passing by a small grocery store and finding himself standing before a refrigerated section, a wall of ready-to-bake cookies in front of him. For Changkyun, who considered making himself a nice bowl of instant ramyun the height of his cooking skill, even the ready-to-bake packages felt too close to effortless -- he might as well simply go for a dozen cookies already boxed and ready to be eaten. Too impersonal. He’d wandered the aisles to the baking mixes, and picked up a box of chocolate chip cookie baking mix instead.

Can he make cookies from scratch? No. Can he follow simple directions on the back of the box and add M&M’s to the mix in a fit of genius creativity? Yes.

He hums as he stirs the batter, checks the temperature of the oven, gets distracted by a fight scene in the movie. The oven is being preheated and he’s covered a baking sheet with foil. The batter is coming together nicely. He opens the bag of chocolate-covered candies by the mixing bowl and pours a generous amount into the mix. When he dips the wooden spoon back into the batter, the batter crunches. It may, perhaps, be more chocolate than batter at this point, but Changkyun has a feeling that Kihyun likes chocolate, so maybe this isn’t a bad thing.

He is not making the cookies _for_ Kihyun. He is making them because he’s noticed that Kihyun sometimes chews on the ends of his fingernails when they’re studying, when they’re tackling something new and confusing. He’s making them because ever since the park -- less than a week ago -- Kihyun’s kept his hands to himself, and Changkyun has missed Kihyun’s hands. He doesn’t let himself dwell too long on that thought, but there it is. He misses the easy way Kihyun would reach out to him, for him, the way he’d thread his hand through the bend of Changkyun’s elbow as they walked out of the library together.

Changkyun’s mother opens the front door, her heels clacking on the wooden floors. “Changkyun?” she calls from the entrance. “You’re home?”

“In here,” Changkyun returns as he carefully plops batter onto the baking sheet, making sure to space out each plop. He feels a presence over his shoulder.

“Cookies and superheroes? What’s this?”

“Class party,” Changkyun says, the lie slipping out easily. He’s not sure what made him say it. He’s not sure if it’s because he hadn’t wanted to explain they were for Kihyun. No, not _for_ Kihyun. To share with Kihyun. So he would stop biting his nails.

His mother only says, “Ah,” before her footsteps are retreating again, her voice fading also as she says, “How was your day? We’ll order in for dinner tonight, okay?”

Rhetorical questions. Changkyun pops the tray of unbaked cookies into the oven, sets the timer, and crosses his fingers behind his back. In fourteen minutes, they come out golden around the edges, and soft in the center, covered in chocolate.

.

The librarian doesn’t say anything when Changkyun brings out the plastic container of semi-homemade cookies and puts them on top of the table where they are sitting, though she does wrinkle his nose at him and pull a stack of napkins seemingly out of thin air for him. She also makes him promise not to leave any grease marks from his fingers on her books, and when Changkyun assures her that they won’t be reading any of her books, her expression changes from slight disdain to total offense, and she walks away with disappointed noises falling from her lips.

Kihyun has his hands folded together on top of the table, elbows out, eyes wide and a little hopeful. “For me?” he asks Changkyun.

“Well,” Changkyun says, unsure what to do with his hands, so he fiddles with the sleeves of his hoodie over his knuckles in his lap. Kihyun is wearing a hoodie also, black and familiar, playing with the string of the hood between his fingers. “Your test is soon, and you’ve been doing so well? And I thought -- you might like them?”

Kihyun tilts his head like a puppy listening to a command for the first time. “You made me incentives?”

This time Changkyun tilts his head, a blush belatedly rising to his cheeks. “A what?”

“Rewards for good behavior,” Kihyun explains.

Changkyun says, hastily, “It’s not just that. I also felt bad for what happened at the park.” He presses his lips together after that, staring at Kihyun, unsure what it is about the older student that makes him want to spill all his truths. Every truth. Maybe it’s the way Kihyun looks at him with those galaxies for eyes.

“Apology cookies,” Kihyun says. “That’s really sweet.”

“They’re just cookies,” Changkyun says, opening his textbook and flipping it to a random page. Kihyun’s gaze shouldn’t make this heat trickle down the back of his neck, settling pleasantly in his belly.

“That you made,” Kihyun says. “With your heart.”

“Ugh.” Changkyun sticks his tongue out. “Gross.”

Kihyun laughs, and the sound rings in Changkyun’s ears. He reaches across the table and takes Changkyun’s hand, gentle, the pads of his fingers resting over the slender bones of the back of Changkyun’s hand. “You don’t have to feel bad about the park. You were curious. You didn’t ask anything bad. At least, I don’t think you did.”

Changkyun lets himself breathe through the touch. Kihyun’s fingers send sparks of electricity shooting up to his brain. His first reaction, to pull away, is not what he wants. So he stays, and breathes, and Kihyun smiles at him, a small tug of his lips, uncertain and new and hopeful.

Changkyun smiles back. 

.

Kihyun doesn't show up at school the next day, or the next. Changkyun misses him in Calculus, and his texts to Kihyun go unanswered. Ms. Yoon moves the make-up unit test to the following Friday without Changkyun even needing to raise it.

Changkyun finds Hoseok after school, on his way to the pool, and asks him if he's heard from Kihyun, but is left with a non-answer, and an apologetic look.

"He's fine," Hoseok says, biting into his fat bottom lip. "I'm sorry; I don't know what I can tell you."

Changkyun's in the locker room the next day, changing before gym class, when he overhears Kihyun's name, and he strains to listen. "Wasn't it that?" the boy is saying -- Yoonho, Changkyun thinks -- "Kihyun-sunbae is in the hospital again. Wonder if he's back with that guy."

"Yah," his friend responds. "Don't start rumors."

"Is it a rumor, though?"

Their conversation echoes and fades as they leave. Changkyun has forgotten to put on one sock. He rushes to finish dressing, before leaving the locker rooms to meet his classmates on the gym floor, his heart aching in a strange, alien way.

.


	12. Chapter 12

Monday morning, Changkyun is reviewing his history notes for the quiz he has next period when someone stops in front of his desk, their shadow looming over Changkyun’s papers, and says, “Hey.”

Changkyun looks up, eyes settling on Kihyun, who is rocking on the heels of his feet, his smile uncertain, almost like it’s flickering in and out of focus through the lens of a camera.

“Hey,” Changkyun says after swallowing the dryness in his throat. He inspects Kihyun before he realizes he’s doing it, eyes roving over Kihyun’s arms, his legs, his waist, his cheeks. For what, he doesn’t know. But Kihyun looks the same. His hair is a little messier than usual and the dark smudges under his eyes more pronounced, but he’s wearing his favorite -- Changkyun assumes it’s his favorite, anyway -- hoodie and jeans and sneakers and nothing seems out of place.

Except for that flickering smile.

Kihyun sits in the desk in front of Changkyun, beginning to take out his materials for their shared calculus class as Ms. Yoon claps her hands together once at the front of the room to get the students to focus and pay attention. “Sorry I didn’t answer any of your texts,” Kihyun offers quietly, not quite looking at Changkyun. “I got them all. I was -- sick.”

His voice catches on the last word. Changkyun frowns, kicks his feet out until they are resting under Kihyun’s chair. “That’s okay, hyung,” he says. “I hope you got to rest this weekend. Are you feeling better?”

“A little,” Kihyun says, his smile solidifying right before Changkyun’s eyes. His eyes are fond, and Changkyun flushes under the attention. He wonders who else Kihyun looks at with that soft expression on his face. He wonders if he’s special in some way, then buries the thought, chastising himself. Kihyun says, “Are you still up for tutoring this afternoon? I need to catch up before the test.”

“Of course.” Changkyun nods and returns Kihyun’s smile. Class begins, and Changkyun tells himself he’s imagining the thinness of Kihyun’s shoulders, the slump there, the raw redness of Kihyun’s knuckles around his pen.

.

Jooheon finds him after lunch, his voice carrying through the hall clear as a whistle even over all the other noise of dozens of students catching up with friends, complaining about tests and homework, gushing over who is dating who.

“I don’t know, hyung,” Jooheon is saying as he nears Changkyun’s locker. Changkyun is attempting to stuff five textbooks onto a shelf with space left for three, and he looks over his shoulder to see Jooheon in conversation with Minhyuk, who must have recently dyed his hair a rich, deep auburn color. “I can’t just ask a girl if she wants to come watch me at soccer practice. Isn’t that weird? And really boring?”

“If she likes you,” Minhyuk says with a knowing little grin on his face and much too cheerful for a Monday, “it won’t be boring for her.”

“Who are you asking to watch you fail at soccer?” Changkyun asks, turning around to greet them both.

Jooheon wrinkles his nose at him, unamused. “Cheng Xiao,” he says. “The prettiest girl in the whole school.”

Minhyuk pretends to preen, fluffing his hair with his fingers. “Prettiest _girl_ maybe, but not the prettiest.”

“Unbelievable, hyung,” Jooheon says, rolling his eyes, but a smile breaks over his face as he says it.

“I like your hair,” Changkyun says. Minhyuk blinks at him, grins, and brings him in for a quick, surprising hug, his arms around Changkyun’s neck. It’s over and done so quickly that Changkyun can’t even protest.

“I knew I liked you,” Minhyuk says. “Anyway, have to go. Jooheon, ask that girl to watch you dribble balls. Both of you, party next weekend at mine. Come.” He starts to continue down the hall, but must see the wide-eyed look on Changkyun’s face, because he pauses to say, “Don’t worry, Changkyun, Kihyun will be there.”

And then he’s swept up in the current of students moving on to their next class.

Changkyun closes his locker with more force than necessary, the noise making Jooheon jump. “Why’d he say that?”

Jooheon shrugs, biting his lips. “I don’t know. Probably because Kihyun will be there.” He’s biting his lips to keep himself from smiling. Teasing Changkyun. Changkyun huffs, blowing his hair back from over his eyes, but his hair simply falls back into place. “Anyway,” Jooheon continues. “Will you come to my practice today to provide moral support in case Cheng Xiao comes and it’s a total disaster?”

“It won’t be a total disaster. You guys have already kissed!” Changkyun says, referring to the night of Hoseok’s party. He discovered later that the girl Jooheon had been kissing was Cheng Xiao. Changkyun had been so set on leaving that it hadn’t even registered in his brain.

“Yeah,” Jooheon says, “but does that really mean anything nowadays?”

“What a shitty thing of you to say,” Changkyun says. "I expected better."

“I just mean -- like, it meant something to me, okay? But what if it didn’t mean anything to her?” Jooheon shuffles his feet, pouting. It’s rare to see his jubilant friend doubtful, and Changkyun sighs.

“You can’t assume things like that,” Changkyun says. “You should ask her. And I can’t come to practice, anyway. I have to tutor Kihyun-hyung.”

“Oh yeah.” Jooheon’s grin is like a cat’s. “Your regular Monday and Wednesday date.”

“It’s not a date, dude,” Changkyun says. He crosses his arms as they begin to walk down the hall to their only shared class this semester: science.

“You can’t assume things like that,” Jooheon throws back at him, already putting up his hands and shrieking a little when Changkyun swats at him half-heartedly.

“You’re so lame,” Changkyun mumbles, but his ears feel hot, and his heart is racing.

.

Kihyun is already in the library, waiting at their table, by the time Changkyun arrives. He has the strap for a digital camera around his neck, the camera in his hands on the table. He grins up at Changkyun when the younger boy tosses his bag to the ground by the chair opposite where Kihyun is sitting.

“I didn’t know you took pictures,” Changkyun says, sitting down.

“Not good ones,” Kihyun says. His hood is up over his hair. He looks like he hasn’t slept in days.

Changkyun’s chest tightens in sympathy, and he holds out his hand over the table. “Can I see?”

Kihyun hesitates, a war behind his eyes, but ultimately hands the camera over. “They’re just, like, from around school. My neighborhood. The park.”

He has pictures of the river, the bridges over it, strangers meeting strangers on benches, at the food carts. There are a few pictures of Hoseok, some candid, some planned. He plays with the focus of the lens, with the sizes of the subjects in his photos. He takes pictures of his hands; they look like test shots. Changkyun flips through them, pausing on ones he finds particularly interesting.

“I like them,” Changkyun says, because he doesn’t know if they’re good or not. He doesn’t have an eye for that. But he knows that he likes them, that they evoke some sort of feeling inside of him. Nostalgia? The photos make him think of Cambridge, of cold winters and cozy couches, his hands around a warm mug. He gives the camera back to Kihyun, who turns it off and carefully covers the lens and puts the whole thing into a satchel.

Kihyun looks pleased. “Thanks.”

“Are you, uh, ready for math?”

Kihyun laughs, eyes closing. “I guess so,” he says. He folds his arms in front of him on the table and pillows his chin on top of them, hunched over, pulling at the hood of his sweater with delicate-looking fingers, and Changkyun remembers the other boys in the locker room. What they'd said. Maybe it isn't any of his business, but Kihyun is sitting in front of him looking like he hasn't slept in days and showing him pictures that he took and Changkyun wants to know him in a way he's never wanted to know anyone else.

“Kihyun,” Changkyun says. “Sorry, but… Were you in the hospital again?”

“No,” Kihyun says, eyebrows furrowing. “Where did you hear that?”

“Just -- around.” Changkyun waves his hand in front of his face, as though he could dismiss his comment just as easily, but Kihyun is frowning.

“What else did you hear?”

“Nothing,” Changkyun lies, but Kihyun only has to look at him dead-on for another second before Changkyun is saying, “I heard that -- you were hurt. Maybe by someone.”

“Well,” Kihyun says shortly. “I wasn’t.” He pulls on his hood even though half of his face is already hidden.

“So why did you miss school?”

Changkyun doesn’t breathe when Kihyun freezes him with his stare. The table is moving; Changkyun realizes belatedly that Kihyun is bouncing his knee under the table, tapping his pen against the top, fidgeting. Nervous.

“Sometimes,” Kihyun says, exhaling slowly. “Sometimes it’s just really hard to do things. I know it’s stupid, but, like, everything is so much.”

Kihyun's gaze slips away. His teeth dig into his bottom lip. Changkyun can feel something important in what Kihyun has shared with him, something heavy and true, and so he reaches out to put his hand over Kihyun’s, can feel the way Kihyun’s fingers twitch like he’d wanted to pull away. But he doesn’t, and Changkyun is grateful. “It’s not stupid, hyung,” Changkyun says. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

“I’m getting better,” Kihyun says. “Don’t worry about me.”

But Changkyun can’t seem to help it.

They review the concepts that will be on Kihyun’s unit test on Friday. Though Kihyun seems focused, and ready, he asks to review the same concepts over and over again until he can repeat the theories and definitions verbatim from their text. Changkyun watches how Kihyun’s lips form around the words. He never imagined he’d find the way someone describes the concept behind mathematical limits to be beautiful.

.


	13. Chapter 13

“The first Sino-Japanese War,” Changkyun reads aloud to himself, his laptop propped on top of his thighs as he half-heartedly conducts research for a paper he’s supposed to be writing for history class. It’s the beginning phases of paper-writing, meaning he’s just been browsing Wikipedia for the last twenty minutes and clicking around on the links available and letting the information wash over him. He should probably make a list of possible resources he can use in the paper.

He burrows a little deeper into the blanket-hoodie cocoon he’s made for himself. The link he clicked on opens up a new page, and his eyes scan the material quickly. _The First Sino-Japanese War was fought between the Qing Empire of China and the Empire of Japan, primarily over influence of Korea. After more than six months of unbroken successes by Japanese land and naval forces and the loss of the Chinese port of Weihaiwei, the Qing government sued for peace in February 1895.*_

Changkyun’s eyes roll back into his head. The class has been covering relations between Japan and China this whole unit, and he’s heard just about enough about wars. He allows himself a breath, and looks around his room, at his familiar posters on the wall, his shelf of action figures and other superhero memorabilia near the foot of his bed. He's been collecting bits and pieces here and there for the past few years, and recently added a rather hefty Iron Man face mask to his shelf. The eyes even light up when you push a button near the chin. It's in no way wearable, as it's too heavy, but it's cool to have.

It’s late. He’d left his jeans on the floor by his bed, which his mother will have words about in the morning when she comes in to wake him up in time for school, but he can’t be bothered to clean it up just yet. He'll get to it, maybe, after he brushes his teeth. He can hear his parents in the living room watching television, their conversation mixing with whatever scene is playing in front of them.

Changkyun thinks of Kihyun from the afternoon, and the dark smudges under his eyes, his little smile when Changkyun told him he’d liked his pictures. Thinks about how tired Kihyun seems, how he’d told Changkyun everything felt like too much. What did that even mean? What was everything? What was too much?

A word surfaces in his mind, not quite fully formed. He's thinking of something he's heard about before. He had a few friends in the States who would speak about someone in their family who had it, but it was almost always as though they never wanted to say the word. Like a black hole had sucked it up out of their mouths. “My aunt’s sick,” they’d say. “My uncle has been really unwell.”

He clicks on the internet search bar and types: _depression_. 

The definition of the word pops up: _noun, 1. feelings of severe despondency and dejection. 2. a long and severe recession in an economy or market.**_

But Changkyun knows these simple definitions, and this isn’t what he’s looking for. He clicks on a link that looks vaguely like it could be from some institution or hospital and is brought to a site titled: WHAT YOU SHOULD KNOW ABOUT DEPRESSION.

Changkyun tilts his head reading through the material. Perhaps not the most reliable source, but informational enough. Depression, he reads, is a serious mood disorder, causing severe symptoms that affect how a person feels, thinks, and handles daily life. The symptoms must be present for at least two weeks before someone can be diagnosed. Some of the symptoms, Changkyun thinks as he reads through them, almost seem to contradict one another. How can someone be both restless and fatigued? But feelings of hopelessness, difficulty sleeping, loss of interest in things…

He remembers Kihyun when he came back to school, how little he seemed to care. That day at the lunch table, Kihyun's first day back after a month and a half, Changkyun had even told Jooheon and Hyungwon that it seemed like Kihyun just wanted to disappear. Maybe he had. Maybe he still wants to.

Changkyun shakes his shoulders out, not liking the way that thought settles over them. Kihyun told Changkyun not to worry about him. That wasn’t secretly a cry for help, was it? Surely a cry for help would be more direct. Surely, he wouldn’t direct a cry for help towards Changkyun. They aren’t that close, are they?

But maybe they are. Their weeks in the library together have passed by quickly, and they say hello to each other in the halls. More than hello. Sometimes Kihyun stops by Changkyun’s locker before class and lingers and they talk about nothing right up until the bell. Changkyun makes Kihyun laugh with his stupid jokes. Maybe Kihyun doesn’t think they’re stupid.

And then there’s the way Kihyun’s fingers settle over his on top of their table in the library, soft and light and warm.

Changkyun reads through the article, the older student at the forefront of his mind. He doubles back over a section titled: RISK FACTORS. It lists a few things Changkyun has heard before but never looked too deeply into -- and then it lists as a risk factor “being gay, lesbian, bisexual, or transgender in an unsupportive environment.”

Changkyun pays attention in science class. He knows not to conflate correlation with causality. But still…

He types _sexual orientation_ into the search bar next, but his fingers stutter over the keys when his phone buzzes on the nightstand by his elbow.

“Jeez,” he whispers to himself, checking his phone and patting at his chest with his other hand to calm his frantic heart. He exits out of his browser and closes his laptop, knowing he won’t be getting anymore homework done on it tonight, anyway. Jooheon has texted him, his message punctuated by emojis and asking if Changkyun will come to his soccer game on Friday after school.

Changkyun scours his brain for what he’s doing on Friday. Normally, he’d say no right away, but he’s been feeling adventurous lately. And besides, he wants to be a better friend. To Jooheon, to everyone. He’s not sure what exactly has shifted, but he wants to try harder.

Friday feels important. His social calendar might be lacking but something niggles at him before he can make himself agree to what Jooheon is asking. Then, it clicks.

Kihyun’s test! He grins, picturing the earnest way Kihyun had studied that afternoon, his tongue poking out of the corner of his mouth.

Changkyun responds: _it’s kihyun-hyung’s unit test day. i want to ask him if he thinks he’ll need me there first._

Jooheon’s message is immediate. _Aww :( that’s ok i guess. maybe bring him! we need more supporters D:_

Changkyun smiles down at his phone. _okay, i’ll ask._

Jooheon sends back about a hundred smiley faces.

.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *wikipedia  
> **google??
> 
> i'm sorry it's an especially short chapter. is this dumb?


	14. Chapter 14

It’s surprisingly easy asking Kihyun if he’d like to come to Jooheon’s soccer game with him after he's done taking his make-up test, like the words are there ready to be plucked and used between them from the air. Changkyun feels buoyant before, during, and after -- especially after -- like he’s walking on clouds. Giddy for what feels like the first time in years. He pictures Kihyun’s cute, confused smile when he’d approached the older boy at his locker after Calculus on Wednesday, and has to hide his own smile behind his fist as he stuffs his lunch into his face, the conversations taking place all around the cafeteria lost on him.

“I’ll come,” Kihyun said, “but only if we can get food after.”

Changkyun wholeheartedly agreed on the spot. If he were a puppy, his tail would have been wagging hard enough to make him trip over himself.

Now, he waits. Replays their interaction in the movie in his mind. Kihyun had been quiet and focused during their tutoring session on that Wednesday, not even hanging out with Hoseok after, but he’d taken Changkyun’s hand into his outside of the library before he left, and thanked him for everything he’d done.

“I don’t know if I’d be passing Calculus without you,” Kihyun admitted, swinging their hands gently back and forth. The wind picked up his hair and Changkyun couldn’t stop staring at the pink rising up onto Kihyun’s cheeks.

“You’re going to be fine,” Changkyun assured the older student, squeezing his fingers. “You know the stuff that’s going to be on the test.”

“Okay,” Kihyun said, smiling, bright. The afternoon felt golden and warm, sepia-toned. He hugged Changkyun, and it was like Changkyun had forgotten that he needed to breathe. Ignorance was bliss. He hugged Kihyun back.

A clattering of trays startles Changkyun out of his reverie. Jooheon and Hyungwon take the empty seats across from him at the cafeteria table, their lunch trays stacked with slices of pizza.

“I love pizza Fridays,” Jooheon says, clapping his hands together and rubbing them, making a show of beginning to eat. He’s in his jersey for the game after school already, the blue material hugging his chest and upper arms.

“Be careful not to overdo it,” Hyungwon says lightly, taking a huge bite for himself, his cheeks bulging as he chews. “Don’t wanna see pizza all over the field later.”

“That happens one time,” Jooheon protests, holding up one finger in emphasis, “and he never lets it go.”

Changkyun laughs, already halfway finished with his lunch. He’d been doodling into his notebook and scribbling himself reminders about his day -- not anything as serious as a diary, but just a habit he’d formed over the past few months back in Seoul. It helps him think. He closes his notebook now, and tucks it back into his bookbag. “I’m glad I didn’t see that.”

“You’re coming later, right?” Jooheon asks with his mouth half-full. Changkyun grimaces at the sight.

“Of course. I said I would.”

“And you’re bringing Kihyun-hyung?”

At this, Hyungwon's eyes brighten as he sits up straighter, leaning closer in curiosity. Changkyun is reminded of a kid snapping to attention in front of his favorite cartoon, and the sudden focus from the habitually heavy-eyed model makes Changkyun's shoulders naturally hunch in defense as he’s bringing his remaining slice of pizza to his mouth. “Yeah,” Changkyun says, chewing slowly. “After his test.”

“Oooh,” Hyungwon chimes. “Finally making your move, huh?”

Changkyun chokes on his bite, coughs, and swallows with difficulty, his throat burning. He takes a large sip from his can of cola and puts it back down harder than he'd intended, the drink splattering all over his hand and tray as Jooheon and Hyungwon send him matching unimpressed looks at the mess he's made. Sheepishly, Changkyun clears his throat and reaches for the stack of napkins in the center of the table, putting a handful down on the large puddle of cola on his tray to sop it up. “What is this?" he mumbles. "Why does everyone think I have a crush on Kihyun-hyung?” 

“Um,” Hyungwon says, glancing at Jooheon quickly, “because you do?”

Changkyun’s floating-on-clouds feeling drifts away from him, and he bites the inside of his cheek as he sulks. “We’re just friends.”

“Uh-huh,” Hyungwon says, clearly not interested or impressed. He moves on from the topic quickly. “Is Cheng Xiao coming to the game?” he asks Jooheon.

Their conversation fades into the background as Changkyun adds more napkins to the growing pile on his tray before deeming cleaning the cola puddle a lost cause. He fiddles with the remaining napkin in his hand, folding and unfolding it, and then ripping it to shreds.

It’s true that Kihyun makes him happy, that he’s curious about Kihyun, that he wants to be close with him. Those are things Changkyun can’t deny to himself or to anyone else. But a crush? Romantic feelings? So what if he wonders every once in a while what it would feel like to kiss Kihyun’s pink, bow-shaped lips? Other boys have kissed Kihyun’s lips, Changkyun thinks. Hoseok’s kissed Kihyun’s lips.

Kihyun’s lips look like they would be soft. He pictures the way Kihyun’s front teeth press into his bottom lip when he’s thinking, or when he’s nervous about something. When he’s waiting for Changkyun to respond. He pictures the way his eyes shine when he laughs. He wonders if, on the days when everything is too much, Kihyun is sad, and where that sadness comes from. A boy? A boyfriend? He wonders if the rumors have any truth to them. He wonders what more Kihyun hasn’t told him yet, and if he ever will.

The napkin pieces litter his plate and tray. He can hear his own heart beating low and steady, familiar.

He hears Jooheon mention his name and blinks up at him. “What?”

“I said, the team’s probably gonna go out after the game. Do you want to come?”

“Can’t,” Changkyun says. “I have plans.”

Hyungwon smirks. “With Kihyunnie?” he sing-songs, and then he twitches and grunts, scowling at Jooheon, who shakes his head at him. Jooheon mouths something at Hyungwon that Changkyun doesn't catch.

“Yeah, actually. We’re gonna get food.” Changkyun narrows his eyes at his friends and straightens his shoulders. There’s nothing wrong with getting food with friends. With hanging out with friends.

“Cool,” Jooheon says with a smile. “That’s cool, man. Maybe we’ll catch you later this weekend?”

Changkyun shrugs noncommittally. “Sure.”

Jooheon’s eye’s widen into circles, and his hand lashes out to hit Hyungwon on the shoulder. Hyungwon scowls at him. “What?" Jooheon asks. "Did Lim Changkyun just agree to possibly being social outside of school hours?”

“Shut up. I’m not a hermit,” Changkyun says with a short-lived chuckle and his friends laugh with him. "Asshole."

Jooheon nods sagely. “We know. You were just going down that path. But don't worry; we’ll steer you from it and help you find another direction. You’re in safe hands.”

Hyungwon seems to find this hilarious. He laughs so hard Jooheon threatens he's going to have to perform the Heimlich on him.

.

The lunch period changes over. Changkyun runs into Kihyun in the shifting of the tides, and they cross each other in the opposite streams of students in the hallway. Kihyun’s hood is up over his head, his hands on the straps of his backpack over his shoulders. Their eyes meet as they near, and Changkyun reaches out with his hand, as though drawn by a magnet. Their fingers latch and catch as they cross, and Kihyun quirks his lips at him and keeps him there with his eyes, with the slip of a grin on his mouth.

“See you later?” Kihyun says, as they draw apart, both of them unable and unwilling to stop the current, Kihyun’s body half-turned toward Changkyun, arm still outstretched.

“Can’t wait,” Changkyun says, whispers, but Kihyun nods like he heard anyway, and then he waves and slips away.

.


	15. Chapter 15

The halls in the school are deserted on a Friday afternoon. Changkyun thinks he could be the only person still in the building other than Kihyun and Ms. Yoon, who are both in the calculus room, but the door is closed and Changkyun might as well be on an island, or an island himself. He leans against the wall near the door and checks out the display behind sliding glass next to him of stellar students, the Mathletes. There's a picture of the group in the middle of the display, each of them with their hands on a single huge trophy shared between them, Ms. Yoon standing to the side with a smile that lights up her whole face.

Other awards decorate the inside of the display case, and Changkyun feels a note a envy forming in the pit of his stomach. He's a pretty good student, advanced for his grade, and he could be doing these things, too. Joining Mathletes. Volunteering for yearbook or whatever. Student Council. He's just not _interested_. It's hard for him to be interested in anything, really. 

Thirty minutes has passed since Kihyun walked through the door, probably twenty-five minutes since his test started. Changkyun promised to wait for him until he was finished so they could go to the game together, said he had some work he could do, a book to read, but really Changkyun's spent the last twenty minutes playing every game on his phone and growing bored of them again. 

He wonders how the test is going. Kihyun seemed confident when he strode in, even winked at Changkyun before he closed the door. He allows himself to slide down the wall to sit, knees up and arms hooked loosely over them. His backpack rests on the ground beside him. With some internal resistance, he pulls it closer and unzips it, rifling through the contents to see if there's any work he wants to do.

But then the door opens, and Kihyun is stepping out. The older student pauses at the jamb, looking down at Changkyun with a curl in his lips. “What are you doing down there?”

A simple question, but Changkyun feels his toes curl in his socks and sneakers. Kihyun's voice is something he's never thought too extensively about, but now that he's heard it resonating in the cavern-like space of an empty hallway, isolated and pure, he thinks he'll dream about it. It isn't quite as deep as Changkyun's, but it is smooth and rich like the way chocolate ganache goes down your throat. Changkyun swallows, his mouth suddenly dry.

“Nothing,” Changkyun says. “I mean, waiting for you. You're already done?”

Kihyun cocks his head, holds out his hand for Changkyun to take to help him up. Changkyun takes it and doesn't miss the way their fingers linger together after he's pulled to standing. Kihyun's fingers are warm.

“It was the first test,” Kihyun says. “I mean, all the stuff on it is stuff we should know already?”

“Maybe you're just really smart,” Changkyun says.

“Maybe I had a really good tutor,” Kihyun says.

Changkyun flushes, the heat spreading over his cheeks quickly. He startles when Ms. Yoon yells in a shrill voice, “Boys! Get out of here. It's Friday afternoon.”

Kihyun adjusts his grip on his bag and gives Changkyun a closed-mouth grin. “Yes, Ms. Yoon,” they chorus back in unison.

Then Kihyun turns to him and slings his hand through the crook of Changkyun's elbow. The touch is so familiar now that Changkyun doesn't even flinch, just lets Kihyun steer him wherever. They go down the hall towards the exit.

“You still want to go to the game with me?” Kihyun asks.

 _With_ _me_.

Changkyun thinks those words were intentional. He nods. “Let's go. We can yell weird things at Jooheon to distract him.” 

Kihyun laughs, and echoes in the empty hall. Their shadows are long against the setting sun. Soon, the sun will dip past the horizon completely. “Wow, what a good friend you are,” Kihyun says.

“Yeah, I'm trying,” Changkyun admits, mostly serious, somewhat self-deprecating, his tone low. He thinks Kihyun presses his cheek to his shoulder as they walk, something like a nuzzle, kitten-like and totally endearing, perhaps to reassure Changkyun that his efforts are noticed and appreciated, and his heart stops for a moment, but it is over as soon as he blinks.

.

The floodlights are on over the field, and students and families fill the metal bleachers on the longer sides of the grass. By the time Changkyun and Kihyun find seats near the tops of the bleachers, squeezing in together, Changkyun holding his backpack to his chest, the sun has set. His breath mists the air in front of him in white clouds, and the tip of Kihyun's nose is pink. They catch each other's eyes as they sit, and Kihyun laughs for no reason, just happy. Changkyun grins in response.

As soon as their butts are in their seats the rest of the crowd is jumping to their feet, cheering as someone on the field scores a goal and startling them both. Kihyun's shoulder presses against Changkyun's, a spot of warmth in the chilly night. Behind the floodlights, the sky already looks like ink.

Changkyun scans the field quickly, trying to catch a glimpse of Jooheon, who told him his jersey number earlier in the day. Was it 18 or 81? He spots both, but determines Jooheon is wearing number 18 by the shock of auburn hair on the boy. He points him out to Kihyun. “There he is.”

Next to him, Kihyun has his backpack in his lap, and he’s digging through the contents intently, finally emerging with his camera in his hands. As he's holding the viewfinder up to his eye, pointing the lens towards the field, a shiver runs through him. Changkyun raises his eyebrows at the black leather jacket Kihyun is wearing, the seams for the shoulders a little loose on him, the collar faded and almost gray.

“You cold in that?” Changkyun asks as Kihyun brings the camera to his face again and takes a few test shots, peering at the display and adjusting the lens as needed. He sees out of the corner of his eye that Jooheon is on the display, captured in full-color and high definition. The blue of his jersey is vibrant against the green backdrop of the field.

“A bit,” Kihyun admits. “It’s Hoseok’s. He gave it to me. He has a surplus of leather jackets, you know? And it's real leather, too.”

“Are you sure you’re not dating Hoseok-hyung?”

Kihyun’s grin is wry behind his camera. He snaps a picture of Changkyun’s questioning expression, and Changkyun meant it as a joke but isn’t sure if that comes through on his face, if hope or disappointment is there in his eyes instead. But Kihyun just says, “Why are you so interested, Changkyunnie?”

His heart just about beats right out of his chest. Changkyun pulls his fluffy, warm jacket tighter around his body, hoping to keep the organ inside of him. Spring is just around the corner, but for now the chill of winter is hanging on. He unzips his backpack and brings out his red and blue plaid scarf, and then he reaches over to loop it around Kihyun’s neck. “Here,” he says. “I’m not using it.”

Kihyun’s cheeks go pink. Changkyun is certain he himself is not faring much better. He turns his attention toward the game, and on the field, Jooheon scores, a dramatic dive and kick that sends the ball sailing over the goalie’s head and into the net behind it. The crowd erupts into cheers, and Jooheon throws his arms up into the air as he takes a victory lap, riding out his high. He spots Changkyun in the bleachers, and points at him, his face alight with joy. Changkyun cheers for his friend, points back at him, sends him a heart with his fingers, and Jooheon cracks up before returning to the game.

As the cheering dies down, Changkyun hears Kihyun mumble with the scarf close to his face, “Thanks for the scarf, Changkyun. It kind of smells like you.”

.


	16. Chapter 16

Their school wins the game with a final score of 4-2, and Changkyun watches from the bleachers as the team spills out onto the field, huddling around each other and cheering, loud and unrestrained, jumping all over each other to give each other pats on the back. Two of the team members lug over the cooler that had once been filled with bottled sports drinks and is now just full of ice and water, the liquid sloshing over the sides as they near the center of the field. And then there it goes, the cooler upended over most of the team, soaking their jerseys and shorts and socks. Changkyun grins when, even from across the field, he can hear Jooheon’s offended shriek melt into raucous laughter.

“I never understood that,” Kihyun says next to him, behind his camera again, snapping pictures of the celebrating, now-wet team. “I’d be so mad if someone did that to me.”

“Maybe it’s different if you’re being celebrated,” Changkyun muses. “Heh, he must be cold now, though.” He points out Jooheon again, who has run to the side of the field to locate towels. He and Changkyun share a few giggles over the fate of their friend as Jooheon throws a couple of towels over his head and shoulders, bringing an armful back to the rest of the team. Soon, the team members are hitting the locker rooms, and the bleachers continue to empty as the crowd trickles away, now only filled with the occasional parents or older siblings, friends who promised or were promised after-parties and rides.

“Do you want to see what I got?” Kihyun asks, holding his camera out slightly. “Got some good ones, I think.”

Changkyun hums and Kihyun moves closer, their shoulders touching. The night has chilled but Changkyun and Kihyun huddle over the display of Kihyun’s camera, their breaths warm between them, and Kihyun is so close that Changkyun could turn his head to the side and kiss his cheek. He could count his lashes, the little freckles scattered over his skin. 

He doesn’t, though. His eyes linger over the pattern of his scarf around Kihyun's neck, and then he watches the images change in front of his eyes as Kihyun flips through his photos, pausing on the ones he likes and commenting on the color or lighting or the expressions captured on the players’ faces. He flicks through them quickly, and Changkyun puts his hand over his when something catches his attention.

“Wait, hyung. What’s that?”

Kihyun backtracks on his camera. “Oh, this?" he begins sheepishly, his shoulders raised nearly up to his ears. "You were so focused on the game. You didn’t even notice me taking these. Your concentration...it’s kind of admirable.” He laughs softly, and Changkyun’s heart pounds hard in his chest. The pictures Kihyun took of him are subtle and highlight the shadows that cut across his face. His eyes seem to glow, and his hair looks so dark and saturated that it's taken on a blue hue. Kihyun has captured his intense focus and made it into something tangible, almost pulling the viewer closer to the image. Magnetic.

“You’re amazing,” Changkyun blurts.

Kihyun coughs, his cheeks red. He puts his camera away and says, “Nah. Did you want to wait for Jooheon or should we eat? I’m starving.”

Changkyun hadn’t realized how he’d been leaning into Kihyun’s space, how Kihyun hasn’t moved away. He clears his throat and straightens, pulling back slightly. “Let’s eat,” he says. “I’ll just text him his congratulations.”

.

Changkyun and Kihyun end up wandering downtown in search of food, the lights for the shops and buildings and deals so bright that it might as well be daylight. They zigzag through the streets together, pointing out ridiculous signs and interesting bargains. Two-for-one-panties next to all-you-can-eat-octopus-balls! Organic drip coffee next to made-to-order cocktails that are pumped into little plastic pouches. The choices are numerous. Too numerous.

Despite how often they hang out, now, Changkyun realizes with a flash of anxiety that he has no idea what Kihyun’s tastes are like, except that he likes the noodle-lady by the river.

“What should we get?” Changkyun asks, when it feels like they’ve circled the same block for the fourth time already. Kihyun seems content to stroll, despite his hunger, gazing at the signs and scenery and taking a few pictures here and there. The streets and sidewalks are crowded on a weekend evening, and he has to linger close. He worries for Kihyun's camera.

“Please -- anything but seafood,” Kihyun says with a kitten-like grin on his face.

"Not a fish fan? Didn't take you for a picky eater, hyung," Changkyun teases, and he laughs when Kihyun cuffs him lightly on his shoulder. 

"I'm really sensitive to smell," Kihyun says. "And the smell of seafood? It's like rotting garbage to me."

"Okay. Gross and very particular. But good to know. What about barbecue?" he suggests, mind running through the few places he knows in his area.

“Sure,” Kihyun says, unhurried. “Do you know a place?”

Changkyun nods. “I’ll try to remember where it is, ha.”

He leads the way, and their conversation flows easily from subject to subject, about the game, to school, to classes, to Changkyun’s time overseas. Kihyun makes him speak in English and tries his very hardest to hold a conversation in the other language with him. Changkyun finds it adorably endearing.

“Oh, it’s just here,” Changkyun says, picking up the pace after noticing the familiar facade of a restaurant. He hasn’t taken two steps when he feels Kihyun’s grip at his elbow, holding him back.

“Woah, there,” Kihyun says, a little breathless. A car flies past them, inches away from where Changkyun’s next step would have landed. “You’re kind of a little space cadet, aren’t you?”

“Sorry, hyung,” Changkyun mumbles.

“It’s cute,” Kihyun says, coming to stand beside him, his hand still in the crook of Changkyun’s elbow. Kihyun winks at him. “Just means I need to stay close.”

It feels like fireworks are going off in Changkyun’s brain. His face heats, and all that excess energy escapes him in a weird giggle, and Kihyun just looks at him, fond. He wonders what it is that Kihyun sees, why he looks at Changkyun like this, like he wants to memorize him. And he wonders why Kihyun looking at him like this makes him feel precious and important and amazing.

Like he could take on the world.

.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i'm sorry about short chapters ;A; thanks for your patience


	17. Chapter 17

The food is delicious, or maybe it's just the fact that Changkyun doesn't have to do any work for to cook it that makes it so scrumptious. When they were seated, Kihyun took over ordering, insisting he was only ordering the tastiest cuts of meat and that he was going to blow Changkyun's mind. Changkyun found himself grinning, a little lost in his head as he watched Kihyun order with their waiter, as Kihyun pointed with dainty fingers at different parts of the menu and spoke so fluently about beef and pork. Honestly, it was impressive.

Soon, smoke was rising between them from the hot grill, the coals underneath the metal grid emitting a woodsy smell that would sink into the meat they would be cooking above it. This is one of the few restaurants in the neighborhood that still uses coals and not gas, and when Kihyun realized he quickly lavished Changkyun with praise for his good taste.

“Do you cook a lot?” Changkyun asks as Kihyun grabs the silver tongs and deftly moves the meat around on the grill, presumably into better spots to cook them to the perfect tenderness. Changkyun doesn't know much about this, really; there weren't many Korean barbecue places in Cambridge or Boston, and the few times he made the trip down to New York City, the waiters and waitresses at the Korean restaurants there eyed you funny if you tried to cook your own meat.

Kihyun shrugs, meeting Changkyun's eyes over the grill. The table is set between them with small plates of side dishes, sauces, a basket of fresh lettuce and perilla leaves, a pair of small metal cups for water. “Usually just for myself,” Kihyun says. “But it's fun cooking for people. I guess Hoseok and Minhyuk have come over a few times for dinner? I can't make anything too complicated.” He finishes with a grin. He has taken off his leather jacket but is still wearing Changkyun’s scarf, even though his cheeks are starting to turn rosy from the heat. “What about you?”

“I'm pretty sure my mom is afraid I'll burn the apartment building down if I turn on the stove. I cook the occasional ramyun, but that hardly counts, right? Your parents don't cook?” As he is speaking, the cuts of beef on the grill have caramelized on the outside. Changkyun's mouth waters. Kihyun must notice, because he takes the smallest piece -- definitely cooked by now -- with the tongs and plops it onto Changkyun's plate.

“Try it,” Kihyun says. “And, uh," he continues slowly, "my parents aren't around much. My mom works a lot. My dad, too.”

“So you get the place to yourself a lot?”

Changkyun picks the meat up with his chopsticks and pops it into his mouth. The savory, charred taste bursts across his tongue. He watches Kihyun for any signs he's uncomfortable but Kihyun doesn't show anything other than that initial hesitancy. He realizes he knows little about Kihyun’s home life -- Kihyun hasn’t shared much about it, and Changkyun’s always been too timid to ask, afraid to encroach.

“It's not as nice as it sounds,” Kihyun says with a quiet laugh.

Changkyun nods, thinking of his family's beautiful apartment and how empty it is, usually. Silent and echoing. His parents are away a lot, too -- his father at the university and his mother consulting for whatever client demanding her time and attention. Changkyun made it work. It used to feel safe, hiding away in his room from the world with his comic books and video games and superheroes. But now?

“It's lonely,” Changkyun says aloud.

Kihyun narrows his eyes at him, not in anger or hurt or accusation but like he's trying to see through Changkyun, who sits very still throughout. “Yeah,” Kihyun says finally, though it sounds like a sigh.

Kihyun finishes grilling the meat in silence, removing the tasty pieces and splitting them between his and Changkyun’s plates. But the silence isn’t awkward or suffocating. The other diners in the restaurant speak around them, filling the smoky air with their chatter, and they are alone in their own quiet, peaceful bubble.

A waitress passes by and asks Changkyun to scoot his seat in to allow another customer to pass. He does, the chair scraping against the floor, and his ankle brushes against Kihyun’s under the table, the touch surprising him. He doesn’t move away. Kihyun doesn’t move away, either.

Changkyun clears his throat, the smoke getting to his eyes, the heat getting to his cheeks. He says, “I’m really happy we became friends, hyung.”

“Me too, Changkyun,” Kihyun says. He gives him a soft, sweet smile.

.

The night has chilled further by the time they leave the restaurant. Kihyun looks small in his leather jacket, his arms hugging himself, Changkyun’s scarf pulled up over half of his face. Changkyun resists the urge to take off his own jacket and put it over the older boy’s shoulders. For one, he’d be cold himself, then. Two, the idea strikes him as something uniquely un-friend-like and more like a scene out of a romantic drama.

Regardless, he stays close, and Kihyun presses against him as they walk -- consciously or unconsciously, Changkyun doesn’t know -- leeching warmth from him. There are few stars out that are visible over the light from the city, but Changkyun counts them anyway as they walk, with Kihyun humming under his breath at his side. He feels comfortable. He feels like he doesn’t want the night to end. The stars twinkle. Sometimes he sees something extra bright in the sky before realizing it's just a plane.

“What are you doing?” Kihyun asks him, and Changkyun lowers his gaze, looks at Kihyun and finds his eyes glittering.

“Just looking for stars,” Changkyun mumbles. Their faces are so close. Kihyun laughs.

“God,” Kihyun says. “You’re freaking adorable.”

Changkyun’s heart skips, and keeps skipping as Kihyun threads his arm through Changkyun’s. He can’t keep the grin off his face. “You think so?” he teases, feeling light.

“Don’t let it get to your head,” Kihyun warns, but he’s smiling, too. They walk to the end of the block, and no one looks twice at their linked arms. Changkyun doesn’t know what to make of that, but it settles something in his stomach.

“Hyung,” he says. “My apartment is just around the corner, you know. Do you want to come over? We can play Smash or something. My parents will be home.”

He doesn’t know why he felt the need to add that last bit. Maybe to assure Kihyun that he’s not trying to suggest anything untoward. Maybe to assure himself he’s not trying to _be_ untoward. He waits for Kihyun’s response, watching as the older boy ducks his chin against the scarf and considers the suggestion, brows slightly furrowed. When he raises his face, he’s smiling again.

“I’d love to,” he says. A pause. “Would love to beat you at Smash, I mean.” He quirks his eyebrow in challenge and Changkyun fakes being offended and shoves at him, barking his laughter. Kihyun shoves back, light and playful, and then they're running. Kihyun chases him on the way home, shouting happily after him about annihilating him in the game, and this time people do look, stare, jump out of their way as they pass, but Changkyun doesn’t care. Let them see, he thinks, how happy this boy makes him feel.

.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i'm honestly sorry i can't seem to write more than two short scenes per update :( hope you liked it and thanks for reading


	18. Chapter 18

They arrive at Changkyun's apartment building slightly breathless, still giggling, tripping over each other as Changkyun unlocks the entrance into the building. The warmth of the lobby envelops Changkyun as much as the bright smile on Kihyun's face. He wonders if his own cheeks are such a happy pink.

“Nice place,” Kihyun says, his voice echoing throughout the lobby.

“No waterfall, though,” Changkyun says, remembering the impressive lobby to Hoseok's apartment.

“I always found that to be a bit ostentatious,” Kihyun says, and they share a grin at their absent hyung’s expense.

In the elevator up, Changkyun tries not to pay too much attention to how close Kihyun is in the confined space. Their arms press against each other, and Changkyun's Adam's apple bobs as he swallows. The scent of charcoal and fire from the grill lingers in the air, and underneath that something a little sweet and sharp, something that Changkyun realizes must be Kihyun.

“Will your parents care?” Kihyun asks suddenly, “that I'm coming over unannounced?”

Changkyun tries to picture either of his parents reacting with anything more than dignified surprise. They've always been so constant in his life, so steady. He shakes his head. “If anything, I think they'll just be happy I finally have a friend.” 

“You have friends,” Kihyun insists, poking Changkyun in the chest hard, making the younger boy wince more out of reflex than pain. “Jooheon and Hyungwon, me and Hoseok. Minhyuk. Hyunwoo-hyung.” 

A knot twists inside of Changkyun's chest. He says, “But they're not really -- I mean, I've spoken to Hyunwoo-hyung like twice in my life. Okay, maybe Jooheon. But none of them really...know me. Not like you.”

If this catches Kihyun off guard, he doesn't show it. He leans his head on Changkyun's shoulder as the elevator comes to a stop, and the doors open. Changkyun doesn't move, and Kihyun doesn't move, and eventually the doors close again, and they stay in place, suspended in time and in the air.

“Sometimes you have to put yourself out there Changkyun,” Kihyun says. “Sometimes it's worth the risk.”

Changkyun doesn't respond, doesn't know how to, even though the words have struck him deep, like an arrow reaching its target, and he feels like a fundamental part of him has been exposed.

But he doesn't feel scared, or nervous. Just accepting and accepted. Kihyun's hair brushes against his cheek. Then, to replace that gentle touch, his lips, like a soft shock, a sign of life.

“Getting out here?” Kihyun asks. Changkyun nods, breathless again, watching as Kihyun moves forward to push the appropriate button on the panel of the elevator. The doors open with a chime, and Changkyun steps out, Kihyun at his side.

.

Changkyun's parents are watching television in the living room when they enter, clearly engrossed, sitting close together on the couch, his mother’s feet tucked underneath her and his father’s arm around her shoulders. It feels like the two boys are interrupting something. The lights are low, and the dishes are piled up in the sink. Changkyun's lips curl into a grin, realizing he's caught his parents in their own version of a date night.

When the door shuts behind him, his mother sees them finally as they are toeing off their shoes.

“Changkyunnie,” she says, and his dad mumbles something unintelligible, “you're home.”

They pause whatever they're watching on the television. Changkyun walks forward to the edge of the living room, shooting Kihyun a guilty look, but Kihyun just grins at him, following, bowing slightly when he's in front of his parents. “Mom, Dad, this is Kihyun-hyung.”

“It's nice to meet you, Mr. and Mrs. Lim,” Kihyun says formally. Somehow it doesn't sound greasy or forced from him, but genuine and heartfelt. He bows again, and Changkyun's mom beams. His Dad does something close to beaming, but mostly only because his wife seems so happy.

“It's so nice of Changkyun to bring you over," his mom says. "Have you eaten yet? Did you want to watch TV?”

“We grabbed dinner earlier,” Kihyun says, a natural at talking to parents, Changkyun discovers. “Thank you so much. We were just going to hang out in Changkyunnie’s room, I think, if that's okay.”

“Of course,” Changkyun's mom says, waving her hand around, clearly charmed. “Changkyun was tutoring _you_? Are you sure it wasn't the other way around?”

“ _Mom,_ ” Changkyun interjects, pained.

“I'm just teasing, dear,” his mom says, a sparkle in her eye like she's sharing a secret with him.

“We're just going to my room,” Changkyun repeats, guiding Kihyun toward the hallway, not currently interested in her secrets. 

“Alright,” his mom says, “but make sure you leave the door open a crack.”

This makes Changkyun's ears flame, and he mutters apologies to Kihyun as they near the door to his bedroom. “I don't know what she's thinking is going to happen,” he offers.

“Listen, Changkyun,” Kihyun says in a low voice, “when two people are really into each other...or sometimes not even that, anyway, two people can get up to a lot of things when they’re alone in a bedroom.”

“Please, stop talking, I beg you,” Changkyun deadpans. Kihyun responds by lightly shoving Changkyun with his shoulder. Changkyun begins to open his door -- it creaks on its hinges -- but then he pulls it shut again quickly, looking at Kihyun with wide eyes. “It’s, uh,” he begins, thinking about the state he left his room in this morning. “Hold on. Gimme a second.”

Kihyun’s eyes twinkle, and he nods, holding back a grin. Changkyun ducks into his room and finds the covers pushed to the bottom of his bed, a few hoodies haphazardly tossed to the floor, comic books left out on his desk. He gives his room a few sniffs and finds it thankfully inoffensive to his nose, though he thinks Kihyun might have a better sense of smell than he does. He cracks open the window just in case, and then he straightens the bed, tosses his hoodies into the closet and closes the door, and carefully puts his flimsy comics back onto the shelf where he keeps them painstakingly in order by title and issue number. He turns a slow circle in his room, and finds it acceptable for guests considering the five-second-tidying-job. He goes to open the door again, and Kihyun is waiting on the other side, fiddling with the frayed ends of Changkyun’s scarf, which he begins to unwind from around his neck.

“You clean up quick,” Kihyun notes when Changkyun gestures that he can come in.

“Just don’t open the closet door,” Changkyun warns jokingly, and Kihyun laughs. “Sorry we can’t play Smash.”

"It's fine." Kihyun drapes Changkyun’s scarf over the back of his chair, just where Changkyun would have put it, and walks slowly around the room, fingers trailing over the furniture, careful with everything he touches. Changkyun watches as Kihyun’s eyes take in everything, the posters on his walls and his action figures and his toys, his comic books. He bites his lip as Kihyun takes a seat on his bed.

“Who’s your favorite?” Kihyun asks, pointing at the posters of superheroes on his wall opposite his bed. Changkyun lets out a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding, and goes to sit next to him on the mattress. Their weights make the bed dip and creak.

“Hawkeye and Iron Man?” he says.

“Why?” Kihyun asks.

Changkyun shrugs. “They’re just -- they’re not superhumans, like most of the rest of them. Just guys. Tony is really, really smart, and Clint is an excellent marksman, but other than that, they could just be regular people. I just think it’s cool, I guess, thinking about how you could be so regular but still so -- extraordinary? That you can make a difference.”

“Do you want to make a difference?”

Changkyun blinks, leans back onto his hands, and Kihyun mirrors him, body turned slightly toward Changkyun’s. “I mean -- yeah, I guess so?”

“Teaching?” Kihyun asks, and Changkyun thinks about that for a moment. He has considered it. He thinks, maybe, he’d even be good at it. Others have said so, too. But he doesn’t think he’s ready to say the words aloud.

“Something like that,” he responds. Kihyun nods like this is a great truth that Changkyun has just shared with him, and not just a vague answer. “What about you?”

“Iron Man is my favorite,” Kihyun says, “but I’ve only watched the movies.”

Changkyun chuckles, filing that information away. “I mean, what do you want to do?”

“Oh,” Kihyun says, looking down at the covers. “Honestly? I’m just trying to make it through the year.” Changkyun stills, feeling like he is being turned to stone, and Kihyun notices, curls his shoulders and doesn’t look up. “Sorry,” Kihyun says. “Don’t listen to me. I’m just being dramatic.”

“Hyung.” Changkyun’s hand moves, his palm over Kihyun’s on the bed. He wishes Kihyun would look up at him, but he's not going to make him. “I’ll listen. I’m listening. I’m here. Whenever you need.”

Kihyun’s smile is hidden from him, but Changkyun can sense it. He smooths his thumb over the back of Kihyun’s hand. “Somehow, I know,” Kihyun says. “And I’m so thankful.”

They don’t talk. They don’t need to. Not in this moment. Kihyun lets himself fall to Changkyun’s bed, and Changkyun follows, and they lay like that, side by side on their backs, the sounds from the drama Changkyun’s parents are watching drifting in from the tiny crack in the door. It smells sharp and sweet, all Kihyun, and Changkyun turns his head to the side to watch as Kihyun closes his eyes and folds his hands onto his stomach, breathing deep. His lashes fan out over the tops of his cheeks. This close, Changkyun can see the tiny moles dotting Kihyun’s skin, scattered like constellations.

He wonders what it would feel like to kiss them. To kiss Kihyun, to close the distance between them and hold Kihyun in his arms. Minutes whittle by like this, and without realizing, Changkyun has turned onto his side, propped onto his elbow, watching Kihyun breathe. The rise and fall of his chest is soothing. He imagines a world without one Yoo Kihyun and feels like his heart has been crushed in someone’s fist like an overripe fruit.

“You can kiss me,” Kihyun says in a voice barely above a whisper.

Changkyun almost falls. His heart thumps hard and fast in his chest. He whispers back, “Can I?”

Kihyun’s eyelids flutter open. His eyes are dark, and beautiful, and hypnotizing. Changkyun can’t get enough of him, of this boy. He lets himself look at Kihyun’s lips, slightly parted and pink. Watches Kihyun’s front teeth dig into his plush bottom lip and drag.

“Yes,” Kihyun says, and Changkyun is already halfway there but Kihyun closes the distance between them, dropping back to the bed when he knows Changkyun will follow him.

Kihyun’s lips are so, so soft. Like a girl’s but not. A boy’s lips. Not so different after all. But this time it feels right, it feels good, and Changkyun’s doesn’t want the kiss to end. He feels like he is coming together, finally, like all the weird, strange parts of him have found a home.

.


	19. Chapter 19

Kissing Kihyun doesn't make things change between them -- not too much, anyway. 

Except now, instead of the library, sometimes they go to Changkyun's apartment for their tutoring sessions. Sometimes instead of tutoring Kihyun, they end up on the couch playing video games in the living room. Sometimes, instead of video games, they end up laying side by side on Changkyun's bed like the first time, trading Would-You-Rather’s and What-If’s, kissing if they feel like it. 

Changkyun likes that about Kihyun -- it doesn’t feel like he’s expecting anything from Changkyun, like he wants Changkyun to do or be something he isn’t. There’s just a moment, a feeling, their fingers and their lips touching. No pressure.

Sometimes, Kihyun is quiet, and somber, and asks Changkyun to distract him. Changkyun usually puts on a movie they've both seen multiple times, and they take turns scrutinizing the acting and direction, the editing from scene to scene. Bonus points for raising errors in continuity.

Sometimes they kiss for the whole afternoon. Lazily, indulgently. Kihyun is the first and last boy Changkyun thinks he ever wants to kiss. He wants Kihyun to be this secret in his heart for as long as he lives. He wants to keep Kihyun like this, too, on his bed and grinning and happy, untouched by grief or sadness or time. He remembers how Kihyun had looked that first back after their return from winter break, small and made of shadows, and makes a vow to himself to do anything and everything in his power to keep that Kihyun at bay.

Kihyun holds Changkyun's hand when their lips touch like reassurance he's not going anywhere, and Changkyun runs his fingers through Kihyun's hair, cups his cheek. 

“Six,” Kihyun says, one afternoon when they're on Changkyun's bed and his lips are red from how long they've been kissing each other. He smirks a little. 

Changkyun blinks owlishly, confused. “Six what?”

“That's the rating I would give that kiss,” Kihyun says, rolling over into his back. “Because you can do better. I believe in you.”

“Well, thanks for that.”

Kihyun laughs, and Changkyun's lips can’t help but twitch into a smile. He’s not sure what relationships like this are meant to be like but he thinks this is pretty close to perfect. Changkyun loses himself in the high slope of Kihyun’s nose, his lashes. He'd been drawn to Kihyun because of his sudden quietude and shell of mystery but has discovered a precious, addictive warmth underneath the first layer of Kihyun's defenses. No one has ever made Changkyun so comfortable in his own skin while simultaneously being able to tease the shit out of him. Kihyun’s sharp humor is as much a part of him as his arms are, and the way he shares it with Changkyun without restraint makes him feel -- normal and special all at once. 

Everything between the two of them has been so easy, past their initial meeting. All Changkyun had to do was open the door and let it happen.

The other boy rolls back over onto his side so he can thump Changkyun on his chest. “I'm not going to break,” Kihyun says. “You can kiss me harder.”

“Is that what you want?”

Kihyun bites his lip. Changkyun grins.

“That's too bad. I was hoping we could just be like this forever.” He means for it to come out as a joke, a quip about Kihyun's impatience, but as soon as the words are out they feel heavy -- much heavier than intended, and now Kihyun is looking at him with the softest expression he's ever worn, apology and want and love all wrapped up in his eyes and in the way he brings Changkyun's hand up to his lips and kisses his knuckles.

“Okay. We'll go at your pace,” Kihyun says, promises. Changkyun has a feeling he means more than kisses. 

.

“A little bird told me,” Jooheon begins conspiratorially at Changkyun's locker first thing in the morning, two weeks after Changkyun's first kiss with Kihyun. Changkyun jumps as he shuts his locker door and finds Jooheon's face uncomfortably close to his. “That you and Kihyun are -- a thing.”

“Where are you getting your intel?” Changkyun asks. It's too early for him to outright protest, and he's sure why his gut is twisting the way that it is, like it's burning. He'd stayed up until the sun was just peeking out from behind the buildings of Seoul swapping texts and memes with Kihyun. This morning he'd tried his mother's coffee and immediately regretted every decision he'd ever made in his life.

Jooheon hums, his expression reminding Changkyun of a cat that got the cream. “I hung out with Minhyuk-hyung this weekend,” he says. “I guess he's not a little bird. A big bird. But no relation to that big yellow guy on Sesame Street.”

“It's not nice to spread rumors,” Changkyun says. He shoulders his bag and begins to trek to his first period class, wondering what everyone has heard, if people are talking.

“So you're not a thing?” Jooheon asks, nearly tripping him up with how close he's trailing at Changkyun's heels. “Because I was thinking it'd be cool if you were, and we could go out? You and Kihyun, me and Cheng Xiao…”

“Why would you want to bring two extra wheels to your date?”

Jooheon gives him an unamused look. “You would not be two extra wheels. You would be another couple. A double date? You know, you must know this Changkyun. You don't live under a rock.”

Changkyun flushes and slows, and Jooheon naturally slows with him. The other students rushing to their first period classes split around them and reform into a stream of teenagers. They move to the side of the hallway, and Changkyun says quietly, “We’re not a thing. We're just good friends.” 

He feels guilty saying it. He isn't even sure why he says it, but for some reason he can't bear the idea of Jooheon saying he's cool with Changkyun dating a boy only for his friend to say it's all a joke, later. He sends a silent apology to Kihyun, and thinks to make this up to him later by doing some of his calculus homework for the older boy.

Jooheon furrows his brows together and shrugs. “Okay, but,” Jooheon begins, conflicted. “Maybe you should tell Kihyun-hyung that, then.”

He starts to walk away, but Changkyun reaches out to catch him by the elbow. “We’re not -- there's nothing like that between us,” Changkyun insists. He can't help to add, “But if we were a thing…”

Jooheon pauses, looks at Changkyun's fingers at his elbow, and meets his eyes again. “I’d be fine with it,” he says. “I'd be happy if you're happy.”

He walks off with a cheery wave, and then turns to his phone, fingers flying over the screen.

Jooheon's words ring through Changkyun's brain all of first period, and he can't think of anything else. He checks his messages discretely under his table during class but doesn't answer any of Kihyun's texts asking after his morning.

.


	20. Chapter 20

At lunch, Jooheon waves him over to a table where he is sitting, and to Changkyun’s surprise, Minhyuk is there as well. The two seem to have grown closer ever since the night of Hoseok’s party. Changkyun thinks Minhyuk is a walking ball of sunshine based off the few interactions he’s had with him so far, but he still frowns at the older boy as he takes a seat across from them and puts his tray down at the table.

“What?” Minhyuk says, like a preemptive strike, bristling. “Don’t give me that look. So what. I’m skipping.” He pops a fry from Jooheon’s tray into his mouth and chews on it full of smugness. Today’s hot lunch is pizza and French fries, two foods that really shouldn’t go together for health reasons but should always be together for taste reasons. “It’s just History and I’m acing it, so.”

“I didn’t say anything,” Changkyun says.

“Yeah, but you were looking at me all judge-y,” Minhyuk teases, stealing another one of Jooheon’s fries.

“I don’t understand,” Jooheon wails, gesturing at the tray in front of Minhyuk. “You have your own food right there!”

Indeed, Minhyuk's tray is piled high with fried potatoes and two slices of pepperoni pizza.

“It’s more fun this way,” Minhyuk says. “Tastier.” 

Changkyun shakes his head at them both, amused by their antics. They fit well together, he realizes, like two peas in a pod.

A short silence falls over the group as Changkyun begins to eat, but the silence doesn’t remain for long. He takes a bite of his pizza and, after a few moments of trying to find the end of the string of cheese dangling from between his lips, Changkyun realizes both Jooheon and Minhyuk are looking at him. “What?” he manages with his mouth full, muffled.

Minhyuk says, “So. Kihyun?”

Changkyun wills himself not to sputter and choke. Instead, he swallows, with difficulty, the half-chewed pizza like a golf ball going down his throat. “What about Kihyun?”

“Do you…” Minhyuk begins slyly, leaning forward on both elbows, “like him?”

Changkyun shoots a look at Jooheon, who sweats under his gaze, guilty. “Of course I do, hyung,” Changkyun says neutrally. “As a friend.”

Minhyuk doesn’t relent. “Just as a friend?”

“A good friend,” Changkyun insists, sending another silent apology to Kihyun in the process. He doesn’t know what he would call their relationship. _Boyfriend_ sounds at once too overwhelming and too trite. Someone he’s seeing? But Changkyun sees a lot of people every day and has never appreciated that turn of phrase. Someone he’s dating? Though they’ve only been on the one date. He and Kihyun are just -- he and Kihyun. They hang out. They kiss. Kihyun pinches Changkyun’s cheeks when he thinks he’s being cute. It’s easy, simple. “Well, I guess…”

“You guess what?” Minhyuk fires back rapidly.

Changkyun backtracks, feeling his shoulders hunch defensively at Minhyuk’s explosion of interest. “Nothing. Never mind.”

Minhyuk sits back, disappointment crossing his features. Another silence falls over them. Changkyun wishes Kihyun were here. Kihyun would be able to explain the two of them to their friends, right?

“I guess it’s cool you’re just friends,” Minhyuk begins, his words trailing like an afterthought. “I mean, he’s started talking to Yoongi again, so.” He doesn’t elaborate, and it’s such an obvious bait-and-hook that Changkyun almost wants to call Minhyuk out on it, but he doesn’t, because the curiosity is boiling up inside of him. Who’s Yoongi?

“Who’s Yoongi?” he asks, before he realizes he’s asking it.

“His ex,” Minhyuk chirps. “They dated for a while. Yoongi goes to a different school. They broke up a little before winter break? Or maybe they were just _on_ a break?” He scratches at his chin even though he has no hair there, a glint in his eyes. Jooheon’s gaze flits between them both, as though he’s watching a tennis match and uncertain which team he is rooting for.

Yoongi’s name dredges something up inside of Changkyun. A familiarity. He remembers the rumors he’d overheard in the locker rooms, the boys whispering about Kihyun and his boyfriend and the hospital. He sees, vividly in his mind’s eye, an image of a larger man -- perhaps someone of Hyunwoo’s stature -- next to Kihyun. Holding him, kissing him, hurting him. He doesn’t know a Yoongi, but suddenly he’s angry at this phantom other boy.

“Was Yoongi...good to him?”

“Hm?” Minhyuk hums, sitting up straighter as though coming to attention. “Good to him? Well, I don’t know about that. They fought a lot. Little spitfires, both of them. Fought about the smallest things. But somehow it worked for them. I don’t know. I didn’t know Yoongi very well.”

“And they’re talking again?”

“Mm, yeah. Kihyun mentioned something about meeting him after school.” Minhyuk waves a hand, dismissing the comment as something benign, but Changkyun’s chest feels tight and hot. Would Kihyun kiss Changkyun and then meet up with his ex-boyfriend to start up a relationship again? Was Changkyun just a blip in his radar on his way back to Yoongi? Was Yoongi the reason why Kihyun had been in the hospital all those weeks ago?

The combination of pizza and fries turns unpleasant, too heavy and greasy, his stomach churning. He’d been ignoring Kihyun’s texts all morning. Why? Because he was afraid to admit out loud and to his best friend here how much he likes him? That was certainly it. Changkyun is a coward.

As this realization sinks in, Minhyuk starts a conversation with Jooheon about throwing a party that weekend. Changkyun lets their conversation about how to buy alcohol for the party fade into the background. He takes out his phone and scrolls to his chat with Kihyun, reading through the messages again. Kihyun asks if he ate breakfast, if he got to school on time. Says, _I guess you’re not reading your messages so I’ll see you later!_ Says, _Are you angry with me?_

Changkyun feels his stomach drop to his shoes. He types back quickly, _sorry, just didn’t have time to respond. Want to hang out after school?_

The three little dots appear under his message almost immediately, and Changkyun waits with his fingers tight around his phone.

Kihyun sends, _Can’t :( meeting up with a friend. Tmw?_

 _So I won’t see you today at all?_ Changkyun responds, trying to act cute and punctuating his question with an appropriately pouty emoji.

 _You’ll live, big baby_ , Kihyun replies.

The three little dots appear again as Kihyun types. Then they disappear. Then they reappear again. Changkyun doesn’t breathe.

 _Let’s do something fun tomorrow,_ Kihyun sends, finally.

Changkyun wonders if it’s really Yoongi that Kihyun is going to meet today. What will conspire between them, what sort of history they have together that Changkyun could never hope to have with Kihyun. He’s never asked about Kihyun’s past relationships, because when he and Kihyun are together it feels like they are the only two people who exist on earth, and Changkyun likes it that way.

But that’s silly, a child’s way of thinking. Though Changkyun has tried hard to keep his world limited to only the few people he truly trusts, he can’t expect Kihyun to have done the same. No, Kihyun’s world is bound to be like him -- full of mystery and color and wonder and beauty -- and Changkyun is starting to realize that he can only hope he is memorable enough to remain a part of it.

 _Can’t wait_ , he responds.

.


	21. Chapter 21

That night sleep is like a feather that keeps getting caught in the soft night breeze, fleeting and just out of reach. Changkyun wakes up feeling like he hasn't slept at all. He'd dreamed of being in a big boat in the middle of the ocean, alone. He'd dreamed of being in the boat with Kihyun, only to find Kihyun was made of sand. He'd dreamed of being in the boat with his family, only to find they were made of stone. The boat sank a total of three times. He dreamed of land. He dreamed of washing up on the shore, and taking Kihyun's hand when it was extended to him. He'd known it was Kihyun before he could draw breath.

He shows up at school wondering why he hadn't dreamed he'd drowned.

.

“Kihyun, hey,” Changkyun says, whispers. Kihyun has the hood of his sweater up which usually means he's not in the mood to hold a conversation, but this doesn't mean he's not in the mood for company. Changkyun had sought him out first thing this morning, weaving through students to get to Kihyun's locker.

“Hey,” Kihyun says back softly, smiling a little. He finishes putting his books away in his locker, and zips up his backpack before slinging it over his shoulder. Changkyun inspects him quietly for any signs that something has happened, any signs of violence or discomfort, but finds nothing. Just dark circles under Kihyun's eyes, a wrinkle over the bridge of his nose as he catches Changkyun staring. “You okay, Changkyunnie?”

Oh, how Changkyun loves the way Kihyun says his name. Kihyun steps in close. Changkyun realizes a moment too late that Kihyun is going to kiss him. So Kihyun kisses him, light and airy, a brief peck on the lips. A moment of heaven. Changkyun wishes he could enjoy it, but he tucks his chin into his chest after, eyes darting around the hallway to see if anyone caught the moment. No one seems to have, all the students filling the hallway busy catching up with friends in the morning.

Kihyun notices. Of course he does. He says a little sadly, “I'm sorry. I shouldn't have done that.”

“No,” Changkyun says. “It's okay.” He tries to meet Kihyun's eyes, and flushes when he does. “I want it to be okay, you know? Just -- warn me or something?”

Kihyun chuckles. “You want me to announce every time I lean in to kiss you?”

“Yeah,” Changkyun says, straightening his shoulders in a mock show of machismo. Then he sighs, unable to keep it up. “No, I don't. That would be ridiculous. I don't know. Sorry.”

“Hey,” Kihyun says. “It's fine. We'll figure it out. Together.”

Guilt washes over Changkyun again for how he'd responded to Jooheon's and Minhyuk's questions yesterday. Were those the responses of something who'd wanted to figure it out? Or of someone who was hiding? He shrugs, both to Kihyun's words and to his own secret thoughts.

“Yeah. Uh, how'd it go with your friend?” Changkyun pauses, leaning against the lockers with one shoulder and trying to affect an air of nonchalance. “Who were you meeting anyway?”

Kihyun hums and leans against the lockers also, imitating the way Changkyun has his arms crossed in front of his chest. “Just a friend,” he says. “You don't know him.”

“How do you know I don't know him?”

“He goes to a different school.”

“Did you -- were you.” Changkyun swallows. “You sure you were just friends?”

Kihyun rolls his eyes, but he doesn't seem upset at Changkyun's obvious prying. He says, “Minhyuk told you, huh?” Changkyun waits a moment too late to lie to save Minhyuk's face, so he just nods meekly. Kihyun says with a smirk, “Should have known. Okay, it's fine. I met up with Yoongi. We had dated for a while. A while back. But we're not dating anymore. I met up with him to tie up loose ends. That's all.”

“Why didn't you just say that?” Changkyun flinches at his own words. He hates sounding needy or like he's throwing accusations, especially when it hasn't even been that long since their first kiss and as they've never officially talked about whatever it is that's happening between them. Sometimes things happen without talking, Changkyun thinks, but then most of the time things don't, or they do, but it's wrong in some way. Changkyun doesn't want this something to go wrong. 

“I don't know,” Kihyun says, and a flash of helplessness crosses over his features before Kihyun schools them into something neutral. Neutral and dull, walls up.

“It's okay,” Changkyun says quickly, because it is. He wants Kihyun to share everything with him, wants to hear his innermost thoughts, wants to know what he hopes and fears and desires, but he knows he's not entitled to this. Knows he has to be ready to share everything, too. “We'll figure it out. Together,” he adds, using Kihyun's own words.

The warning bell rings, but it sounds very far away. Kihyun's hand is in Changkyun's. When had that happened? Changkyun looks at how their fingers fold together, where they join. Kihyun says, “Kiss me again?”

Changkyun lifts Kihyun's knuckles to his lips, grazing each rise of bone, and Kihyun blushes, biting the inside of his cheek to keep the smile from bursting across his face.

.

The thing about not knowing is that nothing is off limits. Not knowing anything about Yoongi is driving Changkyun mad. 

No, that's not true.

Only knowing the truth in bits and pieces is driving Changkyun mad, because then his imagination is left to fill in the blanks, and he's always had a strong imagination.

He sits in History and imagines Yoongi now, a kid probably about Changkyun's height based off of what Minhyuk said the other day, too-smart-for-his-own-good the same way Changkyun and Kihyun are themselves. A little spitfire, Minhyuk had said, so he imagines Yoongi with split knuckles and a cracked lip and a snarl, and then he imagines Kihyun faced with that, Kihyun with his soft skin and brittle smile and that flash of helplessness Changkyun saw that morning cross his eyes that will haunt Changkyun for years.

The bell rings.

Lunch.

.

Hoseok is sitting at a table in the cafeteria, and he smiles up at Changkyun kindly when the younger student approaches.

“Hyung,” Changkyun says, wasting no time at all after sliding into the seat across from him, his tray clattering loudly onto the surface of the table. “Do you know Yoongi?”

Hoseok tilts his head in the same way a puppy might after hearing the word _treat_. He still has that serene smile on his face, though Changkyun thinks -- imagines -- that it has hardened at the mention of Yoongi’s name.

“Sure,” Hoseok says. “Kihyun’s ex.”

“And?” Changkyun prompts.

“And...what?” Hoseok asks, head still tilted, his lips slightly parted in his confusion and curiosity.

“I just wanna -- I just,” Changkyun begins with difficulty, finding it hard to gather his thoughts. “Kihyun-hyung told me they met up yesterday, and this morning Kihyun-hyung didn’t look -- all that great. I don’t know.”

“That’s because he and Yoongi are two of the biggest emo kids you’ll ever meet,” Hoseok says brightly. “They probably stayed up until morning talking about emo stuff. I could never hang. I wouldn’t worry about it too much, Changkyun.” He squints at the younger boy. “Why _are_ you worried, anyway? I thought you and Kihyun were just friends?”

That glint in Hoseok’s eye is the same glint that’s been directed at Changkyun for weeks, now, and frankly he’s getting tired of it. 

“I -- it’s cool,” Changkyun manages to say before the heat in his cheeks is too much.

“If you’re so curious,” Hoseok advises, “then just ask Kihyun yourself. Kihyunnie doesn’t open up easily, but direct questioning? That usually helps.” Hoseok winks. Changkyun wants to dig a hole in the middle of the cafeteria and jump into it and fill it back up with dirt again. What on earth is Hoseok-hyung winking at him like that for?

“Uh, thanks,” Changkyun mumbles, not sure what to make of the advice. “Would he tell me why he was in the hospital, too?”

Hoseok’s smile dims, and his eyes harden until they seem as cool as marble. Changkyun feels like he’s being stared down by a police officer, and instinctively cowers a little, hunching his shoulders. The tension suddenly feels so thick between them that Changkyun could probably churn it into butter. “That’s not for me to answer,” Hoseok says, finally, when Changkyun can barely stand the silence anymore.

Changkyun looks down at his food, that guilt wrenching and souring in his gut again. He thinks of Kihyun from the morning, the Kihyun who promised they’d figure stuff out together. It wasn’t just Kihyun who promised, though. Changkyun had said the words, too. And he wants to figure stuff out together, with Kihyun. He wants that.

Before he can respond to Hoseok, two trays clatter onto the table simultaneously, followed by the loud greetings of Jooheon and the notably less loud greetings of Hyungwon. “So glum!” Jooheon comments, clapping Changkyun on the shoulder, who yelps at the sudden assault. “Fail a test or something?”

“I was telling Changkyunnie here about my pet goldfish in the third grade,” Hoseok lies smoothly, the smile back on his face. “I could never own another fish again.”

“Goldfish are gross,” Hyungwon comments, stuffing half of his sandwich into his mouth at once. “Did you know that they grow to the size of whatever contains them? So in the ocean, there could just be giant goldfish the size of cruise-liners swimming around. Bigger than giant squids. Terrifying.”

“Fascinating,” Hoseok comments drily. He lets his smile rest on Changkyun, as though to say, _Chin up, friend. Do better._

Changkyun vows to himself as the table continues talking about sea life that he will. He will.

.


	22. Chapter 22

“Let’s do something fun, you said. Can’t wait, I said, full of willful ignorance. Can’t believe we’re doing this. How did you talk me into this.” Changkyun holds on tight to the handlebar in front of him as he mumbles under his breath, schooling his face into a mask, determination settling into his features. Next to him, Kihyun buckles his seat belt, checks that Changkyun’s is buckled, too, and threads his arm through Changkyun’s, grinning like a fox that’s caught its prey. At the end of the school day Kihyun had ambushed Changkyun at his locker and gleefully reminded him that they were off to do something fun together, as they had promised each other the day before. "Leave it to me," Kihyun had said.

Only Changkyun hadn't expected to be taken to a theme park.

They are sitting on The Pirate Ship, the swinging ship ride inside Lotte World, and Changkyun’s heart is pounding. The weather is finally warming and has brought with it a blooming, fresh energy to the people of Seoul, and Lotte World is packed with people -- families and students and couples and tourists -- milling around, queuing for rides and games and food, screaming at the tops of their lungs on the other indoor rides.

“C’mon, Changkyunnie,” Kihyun chirps happily beside him, smug and smiling widely. He wiggles his fingers in front of Changkyun’s face. “You can hold my hand if you want.”

“I think I’ll keep myself safe by holding onto this bar, thanks.” Kihyun laughs and Changkyun can’t help but smile even though the seat is too hard, and the ride is going to be terrifying. “It’s been years since I’ve been on a ride...I don’t even remember if I like roller coasters.”

“This is hardly a roller coaster,” Kihyun points out, but then the ride is starting.

The first few swings are bearable. There is that moment when the bottom of the ship catches against the platform, accelerating, that makes Changkyun’s stomach flip over inside of him each time, but otherwise it's kind of like riding in a car with the windows down. Or in a convertible with the top down. On a very hilly road. Going well over the speed limit. As the ship climbs higher and higher, Changkyun is determined not to shout or scream or let go or move, really, and his knuckles are white on top of the steel bar in front of him. But then he looks over at Kihyun on Pirate Ship swing number seven, at the battle of fear and excitement on the other boy's face, and lifts his arm to swing it over Kihyun’s shoulder. Kihyun immediately hides his face against Changkyun’s neck, laughing, shouting something that can’t be heard over the other screams and the whistling in Changkyun’s ears.

His neck feels very, very warm. His heart swoops in time with his stomach. Then he's laughing, too, with Kihyun buried against his chest, his arms full of Kihyun.

“I like this!” he shouts.

Kihyun pulls back, eyes squinting at Changkyun, trying to make out what he’d said, but they're on the backwards downswing so his hair gets pushed in front of his eyes. “What?”

Changkyun repeats, feeling buoyed by the ship, the atmosphere, the feeling of being suspended in the air at the top of each swing, “I like this -- I like you! I like you!”

A blush blooms across Kihyun’s cheeks. “I like you, too,” he says, as the ride slows, burying his face again against Changkyun's neck. His arms move to hold Changkyun around the waist. It feels good.

Changkyun doesn’t even notice the ride coming to a stop, lost staring at Kihyun. He is the luckiest boy in the world, he thinks. To get to have this. How did someone like Kihyun just seem to fall into Changkyun’s lap? How did someone like Kihyun -- who had dated Hoseok, who had dated Yoongi, whoever Yoongi was -- see anything in Changkyun at all? Changkyun feels like his world has expanded since he started tutoring the older boy, feels like his world has brightened and become more colorful since they kissed.

The ride comes to a stop, and other park goers start to clamber onto the ship as their group disembarks. Kihyun nudges him with his shoulder. “What do you want to do next?” Kihyun asks.

“Whatever you want, hyung,” Changkyun says.

.

They wait in line for the indoor roller coaster, but Kihyun gets bored and distracted about fifteen minutes in, and they stand in line for the bumper cars instead. Then, he wants to get snacks. But not before checking to see if the outdoor part of the park is open yet. But maybe they should get back into line for the indoor roller coaster? Kihyun flits from attraction to attraction, the amazement in his eyes like a child’s, and Changkyun follows, their two smallest fingers linked together. They let go to demolish each other at the bumper cars, and then they come together again to get on an arcade-style shooting ride. Changkyun gets the higher score between them.

As they're exploring, Changkyun notices when pairs or small groups of girls look at them, at their linked pinkies, but Changkyun looks at them, too, at the way they cling to each other, and he wonders how many of them want to do more than hold hands with their best friend. How many of them are hiding, like he is?

Changkyun remembers now, as though the memory had spilled from a cup in his brain, his actual first kiss. It was on the playground during recess, and he was eight, and there was a boy underneath the slide with him, and they were both short enough that they could stand upright under the curved plastic of the play structure. And the boy said, “You’re cute even though you talk funny,” and Changkyun hadn’t known what to say, because he never knew what to say, because he’d known ever since he started school he spoke a little differently from the other kids, but he was growing out of it. But he liked being called cute. And the boy had kissed him in a way only a child could -- with innocence and ignorance both -- and the boy had said, “I saw my sister do that do her boyfriend. So now you’re my boyfriend?”

They played freeze tag together on the playground. The next day, the boy didn’t want to be boyfriends anymore, but Changkyun didn’t think anything of it. He stayed quiet, and joined the rest of the children in another game of freeze tag.

“What are you thinking about?” Kihyun asks, poking Changkyun in the nose. Changkyun realizes they are in line for food -- something about potatoes on a stick -- and steps closer to Kihyun.

“About how much I want to kiss you,” Changkyun says, speaking the words as they come to him.

“Yeah?” Kihyun says. “So do it.”

“People will see,” Changkyun says, imagining people taking their phones out and snapping pictures of them and posting them online along with scandalous captions and titles. Some rational part of his mind tells him that won't happen, but it's quiet for now.

Kihyun shrugs. “Guess you don’t want it that much then.”

Kihyun steps forward, and his fingers slip from Changkyun’s, and Changkyun panics and reaches for him. Their fingers link and Kihyun turns to him, a question on his lips that he doesn't manage to get out, because then they are kissing, Kihyun's free hand frozen just millimeters from Changkyun’s cheek, Kihyun’s little gasp of surprise escaping him, and Changkyun’s heart exploding in his chest from warmth and happiness and all the fluttery feelings that come with kissing the boy you love.

“Get a room,” a girl says behind them. “Oh my god, are you going to order or what?”

Changkyun pulls away abruptly, heat crawling up onto his face as he realizes what he’s done, staring at Kihyun feeling clueless and helpless as all his regular body functions seem to stop working. It’s Kihyun who licks his lips, breaks their gaze, and smiles at the lady behind the potato-on-a-stick counter, and order one stick for them to share, please. She rings them up, unimpressed, and Kihyun pays.

“C’mon hot shot,” Kihyun says, taking Changkyun’s hand again after the lady gives him his potato treat. “Let’s find a table.”

.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thanks for bearing with my updates


	23. Chapter 23

Kihyun holds the potato up to Changkyun’s lips, hand cupped under the contraption on a stick to catch any crumbs as Changkyun tries to figure out the best way to eat it. It’s an entire potato that has somehow been spiralized, spitted, deep fried, and covered in cheese and bacon bits. Not the healthiest of foods, Changkyun thinks guiltily, but he opens his mouth anyway and takes a bite and moans in bliss at the salty, savory taste that explodes across his tongue.

Kihyun grins. “Good, right?”

“Mmhmm,” Changkyun hums, nodding enthusiastically. The table they have found is small and circular, two chairs beside it, and they sit across from each other, Kihyun reaching over the table so they can take turns biting into their snack and people watching. The best part is that the quiet between them isn’t awkward at all, but comfortable, the way reading a favorite book in a favorite nook feels on a rainy day.

“I can’t believe you kissed me like that,” Kihyun says, turning the snack to search for the few remaining chunks of potato still clinging to the stick and finishing them off in a few small bites. He spots a trash bin no more than five paces away but Changkyun can see when Kihyun decides it’s too far for him to walk. Kihyun puts the stick on a napkin on the table instead and looks up at Changkyun from under his lashes.

Changkyun blushes and looks down at his hands. “You said to do it,” he mumbles.

Kihyun says, “No, I just mean -- just the other day you were so shy about holding hands, or about a kiss on the cheek in the hallway. That was -- that was a kiss just now. I felt it in my toes.” Kihyun shivers and flashes Changkyun a bright smile. “How did it feel for you?”

Changkyun can’t quite look at him, like Kihyun is too bright, like he carries the sun with him. “Perfect, in the moment.”

The smile doesn’t quite drop from Kihyun’s face, but it dips in wattage, concern flashing across his eyes briefly. “And what about now?”

Changkyun closes his eyes. The kiss was perfect, but rushed and public. He thought it would have been a bigger deal. Had he been expecting some act of retribution? Some response from the public? Kissing Kihyun like that had felt freeing, like a statement, but the crowd around them has already moved on. Maybe it’s okay to kiss Kihyun around people he doesn’t know, has no connection to in his real life. Maybe it's okay to kiss Kihyun whenever he wants. Well, except whenever Kihyun doesn't want it. “Still perfect,” he says, opening his eyes and reaching for both of Kihyun’s hands and taking hold of his wrists over the long sleeves of his sweater. He turns Kihyun’s hands over so they are both facing palms up, and slots his palms over them.

Kihyun’s warm. His skin is so soft, even the heels of his palms. He can feel Kihyun’s pulse at his wrist under his sweater. Suddenly he wants to touch more of him, wants skin, and he uses his thumbs to push the sleeves up slightly, revealing Kihyun’s pale, slim wrists, his skin so thin there Changkyun can see how blue Kihyun’s veins are underneath. His gaze travels and catches upon a line of silver in the skin, long and jagged and running from the heel of Kihyun’s palm down his forearm, and Changkyun’s heart catches in his throat.

Kihyun snatches his hands away, pulling the sleeves of his sweater back over his knuckles again and crossing his arms in front of his chest. His eyes are dark and glittering and all the color has dropped from his face. He doesn’t speak.

Changkyun swallows and asks, “What was that scar?”

“Nothing,” Kihyun says, and his voice is like snow drifting in the wind.

“Kihyun--”

“It’s old,” Kihyun interrupts, not looking at Changkyun.

“Older than this winter?” Changkyun asks, and Kihyun’s shoulder lift in an inhale but he doesn’t exhale.

“Yeah,” Kihyun says after a drawn-out silence. “I had a hard time my first year of high school.”

“So you--”

“Can we not talk about this in Lotte World?” Kihyun asks, desperation in his voice, in his face. He looks at Changkyun finally, something past sadness in his eyes. Changkyun can’t name it, but he can feel it. His heart hurts.

“Okay, hyung,” Changkyun says softly, keeping his voice gentle. “But I don’t -- I don’t want to not talk about it ever. I want you to feel like you can tell me anything, Ki, and I won’t judge you or look down on you, because -- because you’d do the same for me. I think. Well, even if you wouldn't do the same for me, I'd still do it. Be it. Or whatever.”

Kihyun doesn’t respond, but his shoulders slowly relax as he breathes evenly again. He still has his arms crossed in front of his chest. He still looks like he wants to run away, and Changkyun doesn't want that at all. 

Changkyun puts his hands out again, palms up and knuckles against the surface of the table, inviting but not expecting. “Can I hold your hands again? Please? I won’t mess with your sleeves.”

It’s like enticing a wild baby animal to eat food out of Changkyun’s hand. Kihyun eyes Changkyun’s offered hands like they could be dangerous, sniffs, looks around the theme park as though considering the pros and cons of reaching out versus fleeing, and then finally he unfurls and stretches toward Changkyun like a flower toward the sun. The pads of his fingers settle lightly over Changkyun’s palms. He sniffs again, and Changkyun sighs in relief.

Changkyun hums, wiggling his fingers a bit. “These are the things that I think make you happy,” he announces, and then he begins his list, imagining the smile that he has seen each thing he's describing put on Kihyun’s face: “Photography, catching some really good light when it seems like there won’t be any; the first stars at night; walking in the park by the river near Hoseok hyung’s place; Minhyuk-hyung -- although you’ve shown me here how there can be a fine line between happy and murderous; puppies, especially small ones; familiar, quiet places; when someone recognizes or remembers you from a long time ago…”

Kihyun’s fingers tighten around Changkyun’s, and Changkyun breaks out of his self-induced reverie to find Kihyun’s shoulders tight and tears running down Kihyun’s cheeks.

“Shit,” Changkyun says, shocked. “I’m sorry, hyung. I just wanted to make you smile.”

“You did,” Kihyun cries. “You make me happy, too, Changkyunnie.”

“Please don’t cry,” Changkyun begs, unsure how to offer comfort. He doesn’t want to let go of Kihyun’s hands but he also doesn’t want to just sit here like an idiot with no feelings.

“I’m probably really freaking you out,” the older boy gasps, and this brings a fresh wave of tears. “Fuck.”

“Never,” Changkyun promises.

“Oh my god, get over here,” Kihyun orders.

Changkyun jumps to do his bidding, bolting out of his seat and into Kihyun’s. There’s just enough room for the two of them if Changkyun uses only his left butt cheek. He loops his arm around Kihyun’s shoulder and Kihyun wastes no time pushing his face into Changkyun’s chest and sighing deeply, not crying anymore save for the occasional hiccup, holding Changkyun around the waist with both arms.

“I’m sorry. You’re just really, really great,” Kihyun says.

“I know,” Changkyun says, and Kihyun doesn’t even smack him playfully on the chest. 

“Let’s leave soon. I think I’m done with the rides.”

“Yeah,” Changkyun agrees. “Rides are dumb.”

This time Kihyun does flick at him, but Changkyun’s got his arms full of Kihyun and his chest full of feelings and it doesn’t hurt one bit.

“Hey,” Kihyun says, arms tightening around Changkyun. “Let’s go to Minhyuk’s party this weekend together.”

Changkyun, with his chin resting atop Kihyun’s head, asks, “Like, _together_ -together?”

“Yeah.”

“Yeah,” Changkyun says, and his heart feels like a hummingbird flitting about in his chest, and he’s grinning so wide his face might just split in two. “Okay.”

.


	24. Chapter 24

It’s Sunday evening and Changkyun's father left just a few hours prior for the airport. He would be arriving in Japan shortly to attend a conference over the next few days, while Changkyun and his mother are spending the remainder of the rainy Sunday in their apartment, lounging and snacking and, in the case of Changkyun’s mother, sighing every couple of minutes in the direction of their windows in the living room before announcing she would be catching up on her dramas in her room.

Changkyun spends his time researching in the living room with his laptop resting on his thighs as he sinks deeper and deeper into the couch, the television on in the background. He is working on a paper for literature and still hasn’t quite figured out what his paper is going to be about. In the end, he thinks about focusing on the different types of love demonstrated in the novel they are reading for class, and begins compiling his notes. It doesn’t take long for his mind to wander to Kihyun, to their date at Lotte World, to what he had discovered about his hyung.

It would be a lie to say that Changkyun isn’t worried about him. Kihyun will be taking his second calculus test this week, and if he does well -- which Changkyun is sure that he will -- their tutoring sessions will come to a close. There is a small part of Changkyun that toys with the idea that Kihyun is only with him for the tutoring sessions. But that part is small and grows smaller by the minute.

There is a much larger part of Changkyun that is anxious about Minhyuk’s party they’ll be attending this weekend. Together. _Together-_ together _._

He opens up Kihyun’s Facebook page and scrolls through the comments and shares, pausing on the photos of them together at Lotte World so that he can Like them. For one photo of them both about to take a bite into the potato snack, Changkyun even comments with a little heart emoji before scrolling to look through the other photos on Kihyun's page. Many of them towards the bottom of the page are of friends -- Minhyuk and Hoseok, mostly -- but Changkyun appears in more and more of them as he scrolls back to the most current posts. There are also landscapes and cityscapes, pictures of puppies, the water, latte art, a pretty flower Kihyun found one day growing out of a crack in a sidewalk. 

He thinks back to Kihyun’s scar, and wonders what other scars he might find on Kihyun’s body one day, what other secrets Kihyun holds tightly against his own chest that he hasn’t yet shared. Kihyun had said he was fine, in the messages and conversations after Lotte World, and Changkyun wants to believe him, but he also wants to be able to help Kihyun if it comes down to that. Wants to be there for him, in whatever way Kihyun needs.

So he searches. His literature paper forgotten, Changkyun digs into the depths of the internet and reads about the symptoms of depression, reads about self-harm, reads about how to intervene, how to talk about it and address it, how to bandage up a wound to minimize blood loss. The last bit makes him queasy as he pictures it, the image vivid in his mind, so he goes back to researching the small ways he can help. Mostly, he gleans from everything he’s read, the best way to help is to just be a decent human being -- notice and affirm and be compassionate.

Changkyun can do that.

He gets a notification from Facebook that Kihyun has commented on his photo also, in response to the heart emoji. Changkyun opens it up and sees a returning heart, but this one is pink and stylized. He grins, giddy and realizing then and there and with sudden acuity that this is his first love. When he looks back on high school, this is probably what he’s going to remember: trading messages with Kihyun on Facebook, holding Kihyun’s hand as they walk by the river, sharing food and kissing each other softly on Changkyun’s bed.

The feeling overwhelms him and surrounds him, dense and heavy like the rain outside. He puts his laptop to the side and stands, shaking out his limbs as he walks through the short hallway to his parents’ bedroom.

Taking a calming breath, Changkyun knocks on the door to his parents’ bedroom and eases it open slowly when he hears his mother say, “Come in.”

His mother is laying back on a mountain of pillows in bed in sweatpants and a t-shirt, her hair up in a messy bun. She turns the volume down on the television that’s mounted on the wall opposite the bed when Changkyun lingers at the doorway, fidgeting with his hands. “What’s up?”

“Mom,” Changkyun says, “I want to talk to you about something.”

She turns the television off, her brows furrowing slightly. “Okay. It’s okay. What is it?” She pats the empty space beside her on the bed, and Changkyun goes to her and sits, his feet still on the ground in case he feels like bolting. She must sense how tense he is, because she reaches out and rubs his back, making a noise like she’s soothing a small child. “What’s wrong, sweetie?”

“Nothing, I hope,” Changkyun says, turning slightly on the bed to face her. “You remember Kihyun-hyung?”

Her eyes widen. “Of course I do. He’s over all the time! Changkyunnie, please. Wait -- what’s he done? Do I have to talk to the school?”

“No, no, no,” Changkyun says hastily. “It’s nothing like that. He hasn’t done anything. I mean, anything bad. We’re kind of, um, well.” He blushes and feels his ears go hot and red.

His mother’s eyes soften, and a small smile blooms across her face. “I see,” she says. She prompts gently, “You’re kind of what, Changkyunnie?”

Changkyun swallows around the lump in his throat, emotion suddenly swelling up inside of him. His eyes feel heavy and wet, and soon there are tears there. He scrubs at the surprise tears with the backs of his hands. “Together?” he says hesitantly, looking at his mother to gauge her response, but she’s still smiling, and she holds her arms open to him. “We’re together,” he says, a weight lifting from his chest. He’s sniffling and he doesn’t know where this emotion is coming from, only that it feels good and then he’s in his mother’s arms like he’s eight years old again and crying because a boy kissed him yesterday at school but today he won’t even play with him.

“You like him?” his mother murmurs into his hair, rubbing his back soothingly.

“I like him so much,” Changkyun admits.

“As long as you’re good to each other,” his mother says, “I have no reason to worry. Thank you for telling me, Changkyun.”

“Are you going to tell dad?”

“Do you _want_ me to tell dad?”

Changkyun sniffles and sits up again, so grateful for his mother. He’d really lucked out. She is amazing. “Can we tell him together?” he asks.

His mother smiles again, and nods. “Of course, Changkyunnie.”

His father returns from Japan in two days. “Kihyun?” he asks when Changkyun tells him his announcement. “That nice boy you’re tutoring? Well, all right, then,” is all he has to say, which is better than what Changkyun had thought would happen, which was that his father would launch into a lecture about the spectrum of gender and sexuality and all the strides that have been made in the field lately. Which would have been okay, too, but just way more boring.

In the middle of the week, Kihyun takes his second unit test in calculus and passes with flying colors, proudly showing his papers to Changkyun afterwards and demanding ice cream as a reward. Changkyun is more than happy to provide, and as they eat their ice creams in the park along the river, Kihyun promises him, “This weekend is gonna be so. Much. Fun.”

.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thanks for sticking with this fic for so long <3 i anticipate 1-2 more chapters...thank you really for all the kudos and comments and for reading!!


	25. Chapter 25

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you everyone who read, subscribed, commented, and left kudos <3 this is finally the end. hope you liked it <3

The party seems already to be in full swing by the time Changkyun arrives at Minhyuk's door dressed in his cleanest shirt -- a black t-shirt with the logo of a robotics competition he’d participated in when he was in middle school -- and dark jeans. He was assured by Kihyun that he didn’t need to dress to impress, especially as the only person he should be thinking about impressing was already mostly impressed.

“So I can show up in my Hawkeye costume?” Changkyun teased.

“Leather pants and a vest? If that’s your thing,” Kihyun said, not missing a beat and waggling his brows in a silent dare.

Well, Changkyun’s Hawkeye costume has been missing the mask for months now, so he decided against showing up in the get-up, opting for something much more understated.

While Changkyun was getting ready for the party, Kihyun was already over at Minhyuk’s, presumably helping prep the drinks and snacks and cleaning the apartment before the revelers would arrive, but Changkyun thinks Kihyun actually spent most of his time at Minhyuk’s trading Snaps with Changkyun of random objects he’s found in Minhyuk’s apartment and titling the photos obscure art references. Because of this, however, Changkyun has a pretty good idea what to expect when he arrives at Minhyuk’s place. 

Backpack over his shoulder because he told his parents he was going to sleepover and needed to at least look the part, even though all that's in his backpack is an extra hoodie, his toothbrush, and his wallet, Changkyun debates ringing the doorbell over knocking for the third time, but then Jooheon is opening the door, Cheng Xiao with her arms draped around his neck, both of them with their cheeks flushed a pretty shade of pink. “Changkyunnie!” Jooheon announces cheerfully over the sudden wall of noise that accosts Changkyun’s ears. Cheng Xiao mimics his friend’s greeting in a higher pitch. “You made it and I didn’t even have to force you to come!”

“I know,” Changkyun says with a cheeky grin. “I’ve grown so much.”

Jooheon quirks a brow. “Don’t get too full of yourself now,” he teases with a laugh. “Drinks are in the kitchen. Minhyuk-hyung knows like, everyone? I think half of Seoul is in here.”

Changkyun follows Jooheon through the throng of people and wonders how many of the strangers in Minhyuk’s apartment actually know him and how many have just heard of him and how many of them simply showed up because they heard a party was happening. It really does seem like half of Seoul is in Minhyuk’s apartment, and soon the faces begin to blur together to Changkyun. Jooheon and Cheng Xiao wave to a few people who call out their names as they pass, but Changkyun keeps an eye out for a familiar head of hair.

“Is Kihyun here?” Changkyun asks, shouts, over the crowd. Music is playing on top of everything else, something with a strong club beat that Changkyun is pretty sure is making the walls shake.

“Oh yeah,” Jooheon says with the air of someone who has had to shoulder a heavy burden recently. “He’s here.”

Just like that the crowd breaks, and they are in the living room, the usual group -- and when did Changkyun start thinking of them as the usual group? -- staking claim over the couch. Hoseok waves him over, and Hyungwon makes room for him on the cushions as Hyunwoo quietly greets him and Minhyuk appears as though called by magic with two drinks in his hand, one for Changkyun and one for himself. It’s Kihyun, though, who stands with a cheer and pink cheeks and a bright, bright smile to greet Changkyun with a hug around his waist.

Changkyun takes the drink Minhyuk offers him as Kihyun latches around his middle in koala-like move, making Changkyun stand awkwardly with his elbows out, his mouth slightly open in surprise. “Woah,” he says, when Kihyun’s weight suddenly seems to shift and he veers to the left. Changkyun steadies them, one hand around Kihyun’s waist. “Okay?”

“What?” Kihyun asks, blinking up at him and a little unfocused. “Oh yes, I’m good.”

Changkyun squints at him. “Have you been drinking?”

“No,” Kihyun says, laughing and overdoing it. “Maybe. Yes. Just the one drink. Hoseok didn’t like the drink he made so I drank it.” He looks at Changkyun guiltily, straightening and snaking his arm behind Changkyun’s back. His hand slips into Changkyun’s back pocket and Changkyun resists the urge to pinch Kihyun's cheeks because then Kihyun would know Changkyun thinks he's cute, and Changkyun doesn't want to encourage this sort of behavior. He read about it in some psychology article, he thinks.

“I thought you said you couldn’t drink?”

“When did I say that?”

“At Hoseok-hyung’s party,” Changkyun recalls, frowning a little. “You said you couldn’t drink.”

“Oh,” Kihyun says. His grin is sloppy. “You remember that?”

“Of course.”

“I can’t believe you remember that. I’m happy you remember that. Look, I’m not _supposed_ to drink,” Kihyun says into Changkyun’s ear, his breath hot against Changkyun’s skin. “But I just passed my tests, and we went to Lotte World, and things are just really good right now, Changkyunnie. I promise I won’t go overboard.”

“I don’t,” Changkyun says uncertainly. “I don’t really know what that means.”

“Just have fun with me,” Kihyun whines, all petulant and pouty and so ridiculous that Changkyun has to laugh. Really, who is the older one here? He nods slowly and Kihyun beams, hugging Changkyun tightly again.

“Hey, you two,” Jooheon calls out. When Changkyun looks over, Jooheon is waggling his brows, and Changkyun realizes that for the past thirty seconds or so, he and Kihyun have been holding each other in front of their friends, talking with their faces too close together. He knows what that looks like. “Have anything you want to tell us?” Jooheon finishes.

“Yes!" Kihyun shouts. "I passed my calculus tests!” He steps to the side and raises one of Changkyun’s hands into the air with his own. “No more math! Ever!”

Changkyun, laughing, manages to bring their hands down, their fingers now interlaced and Kihyun is showing no signs of letting go, so he lets it happen. The other day he kissed Kihyun in front of strangers. The other day he came out to his parents. And now he’s holding hands with the boy who coaxed him out of a shell of his own making over the better part of the winter and into spring, the boy who makes his heart smile. He walks to the couch with Kihyun in tow, and sits in the space Hyungwon made for him earlier, and then he pulls Kihyun down to sit on his lap.

Kihyun wriggles his bony butt to get more comfortable, grinning, finally sitting back and nearly draping himself over Changkyun completely, and it’s good, and right, and if anyone has a problem with it they can stuff it, or maybe Changkyun can sick Hoseok on ‘em.

“So,” Minhyuk says from his perch on the arm of the couch, a sly grin hidden behind the rim of his cup. “What’s this about, hm?”

The others lean in, faces intent, and it reminds Changkyun of kindergartners waiting for story time from their favorite teacher. He turns to Kihyun, and finds him so close that he could press their foreheads together, but he doesn’t do that. Instead, he murmurs to the other boy, “Do you want to tell them?” 

“You do it,” Kihyun encourages, whispering. He holds Changkyun's hand in his, a silent support. “I’ve got you.”

.

There are no fireworks, after. No celebrations, no streamers. Just the opening of Changkyun’s heart like finding the key to the doorway of a forgotten attic. The door opens, the cobwebs and dust clear, the sun streams in. And in the middle of it all, Kihyun smiles.

.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

.

.

.

 

[extra]

 

“I didn’t even drink that much,” Kihyun whines, wobbling in Changkyun’s hold as they try to make it down the hallway to Minhyuk’s guest bedroom. Changkyun’s backpack is on one shoulder and the strap keeps slipping as he tries to balance Kihyun’s weight against him.

“Are you sure it’s this way?” Changkyun asks, as they pass another bedroom and a bathroom on their right and left. Minhyuk’s family’s apartment is deceptively large. Almost as large as Hoseok’s. Changkyun doesn’t quite understand how he fell into such an affluent crowd.

“Mhm,” Kihyun says, yawning so hugely that his head rolls back on his shoulders and he nearly topples over backwards. Changkyun holds onto him, straightens him, and they trudge forward. “Minhyuk always lets me sleep over,” Kihyun says. “My parents would freak out if I went home right now...He’s a good friend.”

“Yeah,” Changkyun says as they reach one of the last doors. It’s a bedroom. Changkyun eases Kihyun through the door and sighs in relief when Kihyun collapses onto the huge bed and drunkenly tries to push himself higher on the mattress.

“He’s a good friend but you’re a good boy,” Kihyun murmurs.

Changkyun flushes, hovering near the door, wondering what his job is now that Kihyun is safely in bed. Only the die-hards are still left partying, drinking the last of the alcohol. Minhyuk passed out with Hyunwoo about an hour ago, presumably in Minhyuk’s bed, and Hoseok left with Jooheon and Cheng Xiao to make sure they got home okay. Hyungwon had disappeared with a slightly familiar-looking boy named Gunhee ages ago. Changkyun and Kihyun had stayed out on Minhyuk’s balcony overlooking the courtyard of Minhyuk’s apartment complex, trading stories and kisses until Kihyun could barely keep his eyes open anymore.

“Well,” Changkyun says by the door, “I guess I’ll get going.”

“What?” Kihyun gasps, sitting up on the bed abruptly and groaning at the movement. “No, stay.”

“It’s almost morning,” Changkyun says, citing the pinkish sky outside.

Kihyun scoffs and lies back down. Says to the ceiling, “Stay with me. Stay for breakfast. Stay.”

Changkyun looks at the sky outside. He _did_ tell his parents he wouldn’t be home until the next day, and the bed _is_ big enough for two, and he _is_ quite tired now that the party has died down. He throws his backpack onto the ground and climbs onto the bed, the mattress squeaking. He lays next to Kihyun, both of them now on their backs and sharing the same pillow. Changkyun folds his hands behind his head. There are stars stuck to the ceiling. “Stay here?” Changkyun asks. “Right now?”

“Stay next to me,” Kihyun says. “For as long as you can.” He rolls onto his side and presses against Changkyun, his body a line of warmth against Changkyun’s skin, Kihyun’s hand with his fingers curled like petals over Changkyun’s heart. “Okay?”

Changkyun nods, and Kihyun talks like he's sprung a story-leak. Or like he's swallowed some sort of truth serum. Changkyun listens, careful and honest.

This is Kihyun's truth, and he is choosing to share it now. He talks about Changkyun. He talks about what happened this winter. He’d gone to the roof and stayed out all the night and Yoongi thought he was going to jump and Kihyun didn’t know what he’d planned to do but that had been enough for him to think something was wrong again. Something like before. And that had scared him. He talks about how Yoongi had been the one to call the hospital. He talks about Hoseok and how Hoseok has helped him. He talks about the scar on his wrist and how sometimes it still hurts but how mostly it’s okay, now. He’s okay. He’s trying to be okay, and Changkyun holds him because he understands what it’s like to feel everything and yet feel like nothing, and he kisses him whenever there is pause.

He thinks there will be more moments like this; he hopes for them. He wants to know Kihyun inside-out, all the gentle parts of him and all the ugly parts. He wants to share these parts of himself with Kihyun, too, though perhaps the gentle parts before the rest. They fall asleep facing each other like bookends. When Changkyun awakes, the sun is high in the sky and Kihyun has moved closer, his hair tickling underneath Changkyun’s chin. Changkyun laughs involuntarily, and the small sound wakes Kihyun, who groans and scrunches his face up against the light.

Changkyun feels compelled to kiss Kihyun, so he does. Kihyun’s lips are soft, slightly parted, inviting and perfect. Changkyun’s eyes are closing again but he fights the pull of sleep, and a profound peace washes over him like breath over skin. He whispers, “Thank you for last night."

Kihyun's hand is at Changkyun's waist. He squeezes lightly, a smile on his lips. “Oh,” Kihyun says. “What do you mean?”

"Sharing yourself," Changkyun says in a low voice still rough with sleep. "Trusting me."

"You're not scared now, are you?" Kihyun asks. He's joking, but there's still an anxious light in his eyes. Changkyun closes the distance between them and kisses Kihyun's forehead, right above the wrinkle that forms there whenever Kihyun is worried about something. 

"I'm so in love with you," Changkyun admits. "Is that scary?"

"I hope not," Kihyun whispers. "I'm so in love with you, too."

"Will you be my boyfriend?" Changkyun asks, purposefully pouting a little. "Please?"

Kihyun's returning smile is brighter than the sunlight streaming into the room. "You have to ask?" he teases, but then they are kissing, and Kihyun is whispering, "Yes, Changkyun, of course I will."

.

**Author's Note:**

> for the 'school life' square in monsta x bingo
> 
> please let me know if you see anything that you think should be tagged that isn't already!
> 
> thanks for reading! comments are appreciated <3


End file.
